HHHB 
HHH 

i 


fiNIV.  OF  CALIF.  LIBRARY.  LOS  ANGELES 


"My  son'.     My  only  child!    Do  you  not  know  your  mother?"    Hartmut 
retreated,  startled.    "  My  mother  is  dead,"  he  said  in  a  low  toue.— Page 26. 

The  Sign  of  Flame. 


THE  SIGN  OF  FLAME 


FROM  THE  GERMAN  OF  E.^VERNER 


r 


\x?Ttv       7> 

TRANSLATED    BY 


EVA  FREEMAN  HART  AND  E.  VAN  GERPEN 


"  Give  me  a  nook  and  a  book, 
And  let  the  proud  world  spin  round." 


A.  L.  BURT  COMPANY,  PUBLISHERS, 
52-58  DUANE  STREET,  NEW  YORK   ** 


Copyright,  1902.     BY  A.  L.  BURT  COMPANY. 


THE  SIGN  OF  FLAME. 
Translated  by  EVA  FREEMAN  HART  and  E.  VAN  GERPEN. 


THE  SIGN  OF  FLAME 


CHAPTER  I. 

THROUGH  the  gray  fog  of  an  autumn  morning  a 
flock  of  birds  took  flight  ;  sweeping  now,  as  if  in  fare- 
well, close  to  the  firs,  so  recently  their  home  —  rising 
now  to  a  goodly  height,  directing  their  flight  toward 
the  south,  and  disappearing  slowly  in  the  veiled 
distance. 

The  gloomy  eyes  of  a  man  standing  at  a  window 
of  the  large  castle-like  mansion  situated  at  the  edge 
of  the  forest,  followed  this  flight. 

He  was  of  tall  stature  and  powerful  in  physique; 
the  erect  bearing  would  have  betrayed  the  soldier 
even  without  the  uniform  which  he  wore  :  his  fea- 
tures not  handsome  but  strong  ;  hair  light,  and  eyes 
blue;  in  short,  a  typical  German  in  appearance;  but 
something  like  a  shadow  rested  on  those  features, 
and  the  high  brow  bore  deeper  furrows  than  the 
years  seemed  to  warrant. 

"There,  the  birds  are  already  leaving,"  he  said, 
pointing  to  the  flock  which  fluttered  in  the  distance 
until  lost  entirely  in  the  mass  of  fog.  The  autumn 
is  here  in  nature  and  also  in  our  lives." 

"Not  yet  in  yours,"  interrupted  his  companion. 
"You  are  standing  in  full  strength  at  the  height  of 
your  life," 

3 


A 

± 


4  THE   SIGN   OF   FLAME. 

"Perhaps  so  considering  years ;  but  I  feel  as  if  old 
age  would  approach  me  sooner  than  any  one  else. 
I  feel  much  like  the  autumn  of  the  year." 

The  other  gentleman,  who  was  in  civilian  dress, 
was  probably  older  than  his  companion.  His  stat- 
ure was  of  medium  height  and  frail.  At  first  sight 
he  appeared  almost  insignificant  beside  the  powerful 
form  of  the  officer,  but  the  pale,  sharply  outlined  face 
bore  an  expression  of  cold,  superior  calm;  and  the 
sarcastic  line  around  the  thin  lips  proved  that  behind 
the  cold  composure  expressed  in  his  whole  manner 
something  deeper  lay  concealed. 

He  now  shook  his  head  with  displeasure. 

"You  take  life  too  hard,  Falkenried,"  he  said  re- 
proachfully ;  "you  have  changed  remarkably  in  these 
last  years.  He  who  has  seen  you  as  a  young  officer, 
merry  as  the  day,  would  not  recognize  you  now. 
And  why  all  this  ?  The  shadow  which  once  clouded 
your  life  has  long  ago  vanished ;  you  are  heart  and 
soul  a  soldier;  you  receive  distinction  at  every  oppor- 
tunity; an  important  position  is  assured  you  in  the 
near  future;  and,  what  is  best — you  have  kept  your 
son." 

Falkenried  did  not  reply;  he  folded  his  arms  and 
again  looked  out  into  the  gray  distance.  The  other 
continued : 

"The  boy  has  grown  as  handsome  as  a  picture  in 
these  last  few  years.  I  was  quite  surprised  when  I 
saw  him,  and  even  you  confess  that  he  is  extraor- 
dinarily gifted,  and,  moreover,  in  several  respects  is 
endowed  with  absolute  genius." 

"I  wish  Hartmut  were  less  gifted  and  had  more 
character  instead,"  Falkenried  said  in  almost  harsh 
tones.  "He  can  make  poetry  and  learn  languages 
as  if  it  were  play,  but  as  soon  as  he  begins  earnest 


THE    SIGN    OF   FLAME.  5 

study  he  remains  far  behind  the  others ;  while  as  to 
military  strategy,  nothing  whatever  can  be  done  with 
him.  You  have  no  idea,  Wallmoden,  what  iron 
severity  I  have  to  bring  to  bear  on  that." 

"I  only  fear  that  you  do  not  accomplish  much 
with  this  severity,"  interrupted  Wallmoden.  "You 
should  have  followed  my  advice  and  sent  your  son 
to  the  University.  That  he  is  not  cut  out  for  a  sol- 
dier you  ought  now  finally  to  see." 

"He  must  and  shall  be  fit  for  it;  it  is  the  only 
thing  possible  for  his  unruly  disposition,  which 
chafes  under  every  curb  and  feels  every  duty  a  bur- 
den. The  University — the  life  of  a  student — would 
give  him  fullest  liberty.  Nothing  but  the  iron  dis- 
cipline to  which  he  has  to  bow  keeps  him  in  check." 

"Yes,  for  a  while;  but  can  it  force  him  in  the  fu- 
ture? You  should  not  deceive  yourself.  His  are, 
unfortunately,  inherited  faults,  which  may  possibly 
be  suppressed,  but  never  uprooted.  Hartmut  is  in 
appearance  the  image  of  his  mother ;  he  has  her  fea- 
tures— her  eyes." 

"Yes,  I  know,"  Falkenried  said,  gloomily,  "her 
dark,  demoniacal,  glowing  eyes,  which  knew  how  to 
charm  everything "  • 

"And  which  became  your  ruin,"  completed  Wall- 
moden. "How  did  I  not  warn  and  implore  against 
them,  but  you  would  not  listen  to  anything.  Pas- 
sion had  taken  hold  of  you  like  a  fever  and  held  you 
in  bonds  altogether.  I  have  never  been  able  to 
understand  it." 

A  bitter  smile  flitted  around  Falkenried's  mouth. 

"I  believe  that.  You,  the  cool,  calculating  dip- 
lomat who  carefully  measure  every  step,  are  safe 
from  such  charms." 

"I  should  at  least  be  more  careful  in  my  choice. 


6  THE    SIGN   OF   FLAME. 

Your  marriage  brought  misfortune  with  it  from  the 
beginning.  A  wife  of  foreign  race  and  blood — of 
wild  Slavian  nature,  without  character,  without  any 
understanding  for  that  which  is  custom  and  duty  to 
us,  and  you  with  your  strict  principles — your  irri- 
table sense  of  honor — it  had  finally  to  come  to  such 
an  end.  And  I  believe  you  loved  her  up  to  the  sep- 
aration in  spite  of  everything!" 

"No,"  said  Falkenried  harshly.  "The  illusion 
vanished  in  the  first  year.  I  saw  only  too  clearly — 
but  I  shuddered  at  the  idea  of  laying  my  domestic 
miseries  open  to  the  world  by  a  divorce.  I  bore  it 
until  no  choice  was  left  me — until  I  finally — but 
enough  of  it !" 

He  turned  quickly,  and  again  looked  out  of  the 
window.  There  was  suppressed  torture  in  the  sud- 
den breaking  off. 

"Yes,  it  needed  much  to  tear  a  nature  like  yours 
from  the  roots,"  Wallmoden  said  seriously;  "but 
nevertheless  the  separation  left  you  free  from  the 
unfortunate  claim,  and  with  that  you  should  have 
also  buried  the  reminiscences." 

"One  cannot  bury  such  reminiscences ;  they  always 
rise  up  again  from  the  supposed  grave,  and  just 
now "  Falkenried  broke  off  suddenly. 

"Just  now — what  do  you  mean?" 

"Nothing ;  let  us  speak  of  other  things.  You  have 
been  at  Burgsdorf  since  the  day  before  yesterday. 
How  long  do  you  intend  to  stay?" 

"Perhaps  two  weeks.  I  have  not  much  time  at  my 
disposal,  and  am  Willibald's  guardian  really  only 
in  name,  since  the  diplomatic  service  keeps  me 
mostly  in  foreign  countries.  In  fact,  the  guardian- 
ship rests  in  the  hands  of  my  sister,  who  rules  every- 
thing, anyhow." 


THE    SIGN   OF   FLAME.  ? 

"Yes,  Regine  is  well  up  to  her  position,"  assented 
Falkenried.  "She  rules  the  large  estates  and  nu- 
merous people  like  a  man." 

"And  issues  commands  from  morning  to  night 
like  a  sergeant,"  completed  Wallmoden.  "With  all 
due  appreciation  for  her  excellent  qualities,  I  always 
feel  a  slight  rising  of  the  hair  at  the  prospect  of  a 
visit  to  Burgsdorf,  and  I  return  from  there  regularly 
with  shattered  nerves.  Real  primitive  conditions 
rule  in  that  place.  Willibald  is  actually  a  young 
bear,  but  the  ideal  of  his  mother  for  all  that.  She 
does  her  best  to  raise  him  an  ignorant  young  country 
squire.  All  interposition  is  of  no  use,  for  he  has 
every  inclination  for  it,  anyway." 

The  entrance  of  a  servant  interrupted  them.  He 
handed  a  card  to  Falkenried,  which  the  latter  glanced 
at  hastily. 

"Herr  Egern,  Solicitor.  Very  well,  show  the  gen- 
tleman in." 

"Have  you  a  business  engagement?"  asked  Wall- 
moden, rising.  "I  will  not  disturb  you." 

"On  the  contrary,  I  beg  you  to  remain.  I  have 
been  advised  of  this  visit,  and  know  what  will  be 
discussed.  It  concerns " 

He  did  not  conclude,  for  the  door  opened  and  the 
one  announced  entered. 

He  seemed  surprised  not  to  find  the  officer  alone, 
as  he  had  expected,  but  the  latter  took  no  notice  of 
the  surprise. 

"Herr  Egern,  Solicitor — Herr  von  Wallmoden, 
Secretary  of  the  Ambassador." 

The  barrister  bowed  with  cool  courtesy,  and  ac- 
cepted the  offered  chair. 

"I  probably  have  the  honor  of  being  familiar  to 
you,  Herr  Major,"  he  began.  "As  counsel  for  your 


8  THE   SIGN   OF   FLAME. 

wife,  I  had  occasional  cause  to  meet  you  personally 
in  that  suit  for  divorce." 

He  stopped,  and  seemed  to  expect  an  answer,  but 
Major  Falkenried  only  bowed  in  mute  assent.  Wall- 
moden  now  began  to  be  attentive.  He  could  now 
understand  the  strangely  irritable  mood  in  which  he 
had  found  his  friend  upon  his  arrival. 

"I  come  to-day  also  in  the  name  of  my  former 
client,"  continued  the  lawyer.  "She  has  asked  me — 
may  I  speak  freely?" 

He  cast  a  glance  at  the  Secretary,  but  Falkenried 
said  shortly : 

"Herr  von  Wallmoden  is  my  friend,  and  as  such 
is  familiar  with  the  case.  I  beg  you  to  speak  with- 
out restraint." 

"Very  well,  then — the  lady  has  returned  to  Ger- 
many after  long  years  of  absence,  and  naturally 
wishes  to  see  her  son.  She  has  already  written  to 
you  on  that  behalf,  but  has  not  received  an  answer." 

"I  should  consider  that  a  sufficient  answer.  I  do 
not  desire  this  meeting,  and  therefore  shall  not  per- 
mit it." 

"That  sounds  very  harsh,  Herr  Major.  Frau  von 
Falkenried  has  surely " 

"Frau  Zalika  Rojanow,  you  mean  to  say,"  inter- 
rupted the  Major.  "She  resumed  her  maiden  name, 
so  far  as  I  know,  when  she  returned  to  her 
country." 

"The  name  is  of  no  consequence,"  replied  the  law- 
yer calmly.  "The  sole  consideration  here  is  the  per- 
fectly justifiable  wish  of  a  mother,  which  the  father 
cannot  and  must  not  deny,  even  when,  as  in  this 
case,  the  son  is  given  to  him  unconditionally." 

"Must  not !  And  if  he  should  do  it,  notwithstand- 
ing?" 


THE    SIGN    OF   FLAME.  9 

"Then  he  oversteps  the  borders  of  his  rights.  I 
would  like  to  ask  you,  Herr  Major,  to  consider  the 
matter  calmly  before  speaking  such  a  decided  'No.' 
The  rights  of  a  mother  cannot  be  so  completely  can- 
celled by  a  decision  of  the  court  that  one  may  even 
deny  her  a  meeting  with  her  only  child.  The  law  is 
upon  the  side  of  my  client  in  this  case,  and  she  will 
enforce  it,  if  my  personal  appeal  is  ignored  as  was 
her  written  request." 

''She  may  try  it  then.  I  will  let  it  come  to  the 
test.  My  son  does  not  know  that  his  mother  is 
alive,  and  shall  not  learn  it  just  yet.  I  do  not  wish 
that  he  should  see  and  speak  to  her,  and  I  shall 
know  how  to  prevent  it.  My  'No'  remains  un- 
changed." 

These  remarks  were  given  quietly,  but  upon  Falk- 
enried's  features  there  lay  an  ashy  paleness,  and  his 
voice  sounded  hollow  and  threatening.  The  awful 
excitement  under  which  he  labored  was  apparent; 
only  with  supreme  effort  could  he  force  himself  to 
outward  calm.  The  lawyer  seemed  to  understand 
the  fruitlessness  of  further  effort.  He  only  shrugged 
his  shoulders. 

"If  this  be  your  final  decision,  then  my  errand  is, 
of  course,  finished,  and  we  must  decide  later  upon 
further  moves.  I  am  sorry  to  have  disturbed  you, 
Herr  Major." 

He  took  his  leave  with  the  same  cool  politeness 
with  which  he  had  entered.  '  . 

Falkenried  sprang  up  and  paced  the  room  stormily 
after  the  door  had  closed  upon  the  lawyer.  A  de- 
pressing silence  reigned  for  a  few  moments,  after 
which  Wallmoden  spoke  half  audibly. 

"You  ought  not  to  have  done  that.  Zalika  will 
hardly  submit  to  your  'No.'  If  you  remember,  she 


10  THE   SIGN   OF   FLAME. 

carried  on  a  life-and-death  struggle  for  her  child  at 
that  time." 

"But  I  remained  victor.  I  hope  she  has  not  for- 
gotten that." 

"At  that  time  it  concerned  the  possession  of  the 
boy,"  interrupted  the  friend.  "The  mother  now  only 
requests  to  see  him  again,  and  you  will  not  be  able 
to  deny  her  that  when  she  demands  it  with  de- 
cision." 

The  Major  came  to  a  sudden  standstill,  but  there 
was  a  scarcely  veiled  contempt  in  his  voice  as  he 
said: 

"She  dares  not  do  that  after  all  that  happened. 
Zalika  learned  to  know  me  in  our  parting  hour.  She 
will  take  care  not  to  force  me  to  extremes  a  second 
time." 

"But  she  will  perhaps  try  to  obtain  secretly  what 
you  refuse  her  openly." 

"That  will  be  impossible;  the  discipline  of  our 
school  is  too  strict.  No  relations  could  be  started 
there  of  which  I  would  not  be  notified  immediately." 

Wallmoden  did  not  seem  to  share  this  confidence ; 
he  shook  his  head  doubtingly. 

"I  confess  that  I  consider  your  keeping,  with  such 
persistence,  the  knowledge  of  his  mother's  existence 
from  your  son  a  mistake.  If  he  should  hear  it  now 
from  another  source — what  then?  And  you  will 
have  to  tell  him  finally." 

"Perhaps  after  two  years,  when  he  enters  life  in- 
dependently. He  is  still  but  a  scholar — a  mere  boy. 
I  cannot  yet  draw  the  veil  from  the  tragedy  which 
was  once  enacted  in  the  home  of  his  parents — I  can- 
not." 

"Then  at  least  be  upon  your  guard.  You  know 
your  former  wife — know  what  can  be  expected  from 


THE    SIGN    OF    FLAME.  11 

her.  I  fear  there  are  no  impossibilities  for  that 
woman." 

"Yes,  I  know  her,"  said  Falkenried  with  boundless 
bitterness,  "and  just  for  that  reason  I  will  protect  my 
son  from  her  at  any  cost.  He  shall  not  breathe  the 
poison  of  her  presence  for  even  an  hour.  Rest  as- 
sured, I  do  not  underrate  the  danger  of  Zalika's  re- 
turn, but  as  long  as  Hartmut  remains  at  my  side  he 
will  be  safe  from  her,  for  she  will  not  approach  me 
again.  I  pledge  you  my  word  for  that." 

"We  will  hope  so,"  returned  Wallmoden,  rising 
and  giving  his  hand,  "but  do  not  forget  that  the 
greatest  danger  lies  in  Hartmut  himself.  He  is  in 
every  respect  the  son  of  his  mother.  I  hear  you 
will  come  with  him  to  Burgsdorf  the  day  after  to- 
morrow?" 

''Yes;  he  always  spends  the  short  autumn  vaca- 
tion with  Willibald.  I  myself  can  probably  stay 
only  for  the  day,  but  I  shall  surely  come  with  him. 
Au  revoir !" 

The  Ambassador's  Secretary  departed,  and  Falk- 
enried again  approached  the  window,  glancing  only 
hastily  after  the  friend,  who  bowed  once  more.  His 
glance  was  again  lost  with  the  former  gloom,  in  the 
gray  masses  of  fog. 

"The  son  of  his  mother!" 

The  words  rang  in  his  ears,  but  there  was  no  need 
for  another  to  tell  him  that.  He  had  long  known  it, 
and  it  was  this  knowledge  that  furrowed  his  brow 
so  deeply  and  caused  those  heavy  sighs. 

He  was  a  man  to  offer  himself  to  every  open  dan- 
ger, but  he  had  struggled  in  vain,  with  all  his  energy 
for  years,  against  this  unfortunate  inheritance  of  the 
blood  in  his  only  son. 


CHAPTER  II. 

"Now  I  request  that  this  utter  foolishness  shall 
end,  for  my  patience  is  exhausted.  There  has  been 
an  awful  turmoil  in  all  Burgsdorf  for  three  days,  as 
if  the  place  were  conjured.  Hartmut  is  full  of  fool- 
ishness from  head  to  toe.  When  once  he  gets  free 
from  the  rein  which  his  father  draws  so  tight  there  is 
no  getting  on  with  him.  And  you,  of  course,  go 
with  him  through  thick  and  thin,  following  obedi- 
ently everything  that  your  lord  and  master  starts. 
You  are  a  fine  team !" 

This  lecture,  delivered  in  very  loud  tones,  came 
from  the  lips  of  Frau  von  Eschenhagen  of  Burgs- 
dorf, who  sat  at  breakfast  with  her  son  and  brother. 

The  large  dining-room  was  in  the  lower  story  of 
the  old  mansion,  and  was  a  rather  bare  room,  the 
glass  doors  of  which  led  to  a  broad  terrace,  and  from 
there  into  the  garden.  Some  antlers  hung  upon  the 
whitewashed  walls,  giving  evidence  of  the  Nimrod 
proclivities  of  former  owners.  They  were  also  the 
only  ornament  of  the  room. 

A  dozen  straightback  chairs  standing  in  stiff  rows 
like  grenadiers,  a  heavy  dining  table,  and  two  old- 
fashioned  sideboards  constituted  all  of  the  furniture, 
which,  as  one  could  see,  had  already  served  several 
generations. 

Articles  of  luxury,  such  as  carpets,  wallpaper  or 
paintings,  were  not  there.  The  inmates  were  appar- 
ently satisfied  with  the  old,  inherited  things,  al- 

12 


THE    SIGH   OF   FLAME.  13 

though  Burgsdorf  was  one  of  the  richest  estates  in 
the  vicinity. 

The  appearance  of  the  lady  of  the  house  corre- 
sponded fully  with  the  surroundings.  She  was 
about  forty  years  old ;  of  tall,  powerful  figure,  bloom- 
ing complexion,  and  strong,  heavy  features,  which 
were  very  energetic,  but  which  could  never  have  been 
beautiful.  Nothing  escaped  easily  the  glance  of 
those  sharp,  gray  eyes;  the  dark  hair  was  combed 
back  plainly;  the  dress  was  simple  and  serviceable, 
and  one  could  see  that  her  hands  knew  how  to 
work. 

This  robust  person  lacked  gracefulness,  certainly, 
but  possessed  something  decidedly  masculine  in  car- 
riage and  appearance. 

The  heir  and  future  lord  of  Burgsdorf,  who  was 
scolded  in  this  way,  sat  opposite  his  mother,  listen- 
ing, as  in  duty  bound,  while  he  helped  himself  boun- 
tifully to  ham  and  eggs.  He  was  a  handsome, 
ruddy- faced  boy  of  about  seventeen  years,  with  fea- 
tures which  might  portray  great  good  nature,  but  no 
surplus  of  intellect.  His  sunburned  face  was  full  of 
glowing  health,  but  otherwise  bore  little  resemblance 
to  his  mother's.  It  lacked  her  energetic  expression. 
The  blue  eyes  and  light  hair  must  have  been  an  in- 
heritance from  the  father.  With  his  powerful  but 
awkward  limbs  he  looked  like  a  young  giant,  and 
offered  the  completest  contrast  to  his  Uncle  Wall- 
moden,  who  sat  at  his  side,  and  who  now  said  with 
a  tinge  of  sarcasm  : 

"You  really  ought  not  to  make  Willibald  respon- 
sible for  the  pranks  and  tricks.  He  is  certainly  the 
ideal  of  a  well-raised  son." 

"I  should  advise  him  not  to  be  anything  else. 
Obeying  of  orders  is  what  I  insist  upon,"  exclaimed 


U  THE   SIGN    OF   FLAME. 

Frau  von  Eschenhagen,  slapping  the  table  with  such 
force  as  to  cause  her  brother  to  start  nervously. 

"Yes,  one  learns  that  under  your  regime,"  he  re- 
plied, "but  I  would  like  to  advise  you,  dear  Regine, 
to  do  a  little  more  for  the  mental  training  of  your 
son.  I  do  not  doubt  that  he  will  grow  up  a  splendid 
farmer  under  your  leadership,  but  something  more 
is  required  in  the  education  of  a  future  lord,  and  as 
Willibald  has  outgrown  tutors,  it  may  be  time  to 
send  him  off." 

"Send  him "  Frau  Regine  laid  down  knife 

and  fork  in  boundless  amazement.  "Send  him  off!" 
she  repeated  indignantly.  "In  gracious  name,  where 
to?" 

"Well,  to  the  University,  and  later  on  let  him 
travel,  that  he  may  see  something  of  the  world  and 
its  people." 

"And  that  he  may  be  totally  ruined  in  this  world 
and  among  these  people !  No,  Herbert,  that  will  not 
do.  I  tell  you  right  now.  I  have  raised  my  boy  in 
honesty  and  the  fear  of  God,  and  have  no  idea  of 
letting  him  go  into  that  Sodom  and  Gomorrah  from 
which  our  dear  Lord  keeps  the  rain  of  fire  and  brim- 
stone by  His  long-suffering  alone." 

"But  you  know  this  Sodom  and  Gomorrah  only  by 
hearsay,  Regine,"  interrupted  Herbert  sarcastically. 
"You  have  lived  in  Burgsdorf  ever  since  your  mar- 
riage, but  your  son  must  one  day  enter  life  as  a  man 
— you  must  acknowledge  that." 

"I  do  not  acknowledge  anything,"  declared  Frau 
von  Eschenhagen  stubbornly.  "Willy  shall  be  a 
thoroughly  capable  farmer.  He  is  fitted  for  that 
and  does  not  need  your  learned  trash  for  it.  Or  do 
you,  perhaps,  wish  to  take  him  in  training  for  a  dip- 
lomat. That  would  be  capital  fun !" 


THE   SIGN   OF   FLAME.  15 

She  laughed  loudly,  and  Willy,  to  whom  this  prop- 
osition seemed  as  ridiculous,  joined  in  in  the  same 
key. 

Herr  von  Wallmoden  did  not  indulge  in  this  hilar- 
ity, which  seemed  to  jar  upon  his  nerves.  He  only 
shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"I  do  not  intend  that,  indeed;  it  would  probably 
be  lost  pains ;  but  I  and  Willibald  are  now  the  only 
representatives  of  the  family,  and  if  I  should  remain 
unmarried " 

"Iff  Are  you  contemplating  marriage  in  your 
old  age?"  interrupted  his  sister  in  her  inconsiderate 
manner. 

"I  am  forty-five  years  old,  dear  Regine.  That  is 
not  usually  considered  old  in  a  man,"  said  Wall- 
moden, somewhat  offended.  "At  any  rate,  I  con- 
sider a  late  contracted  marriage  the  best,  because 
then  one  is  not  influenced  by  passion  as  was  Falken- 
ried  to  his  great  misfortune,  but  one  allows  reason  to 
guide  the  decision." 

"May  God  help  me!  Must  Willy  wait  until  he 
has  fifty  years  upon  his  back  and  gray  hairs  upon 
his  head  before  he  marries!"  exclaimed  Frau  von 
Eschenhagen,  horrified. 

"No ;  for  he  must  consider  the  fact  that  he  is  an 
only  son  and  future  lord  of  the  estates;  besides,  it 
will  depend  upon  an  individual  attachment.  What 
do  you  say,  Willibald?" 

The  young  future  lord,  who  had  just  finished  his 
ham  and  eggs,  and  was  now  turning  with  unappeased 
appetite  to  the  wurst,  was  apparently  greatly  sur- 
prised at  having  his  opinion  asked.  Such  a  thing 
happened  so  seldom  that  he  was  now  thrown  into  a 
spell  of  deep  musing,  declaring  as  the  result  of  it : 

"Yes;  I  shall  probably  have  to  marry  some  time, 


ID  THE    SIGN    OF   FLAME. 

but  mamma  will  find  me  a  wife  when  the  time 
comes." 

"That  she  will,  my  boy,"  affirmed  Frau  von 
Eschenhagen.  "That  is  my  affair;  you  do  not  need 
to  worry  about  it  at  all.  You  will  remain  here  in 
Burgsdorf,  where  I  shall  have  you  under  my  eyes. 
Universities  and  travels  are  not  to  be  considered — 
that  is  decided." 

She  threw  a  challenging  glance  at  her  brother,  but 
he  was  regarding  with  a  kind  of  horror  the  enor- 
mous amount  of  eatables  which  his  nephew  was  pil- 
ing upon  his  plate  for  the  second  time. 

"Do  you  always  have  such  a  healthy  appetite, 
Willy?"  he  asked. 

"Always,"  assured  Willy  with  satisfaction,  taking 
another  huge  piece  of  bread  and  butter. 

"Yes;  God  be  thanked,  we  do  not  suffer  from 
indigestion  here,"  said  Frau  Regine,  somewhat 
pointedly.  "We  deserve  our  meals  honestly.  First 
play  and  work,  then  eat  and  drink,  and  heartily — 
that  keeps  soul  and  body  together.  Just  look  at 
Willy,  how  he  has  prospered  with  that  treatment. 
He  need  never  be  ashamed  to  be  seen." 

She  slapped  her  brother  upon  the  shoulder  in  a 
friendly  manner  at  these  words,  but  so  heartily  that 
Wallmoden  hastily  pushed  his  chair  out  of  her  reach. 
His  face  betrayed  plainly  that  his  hair  was  "stand- 
ing on  end"  again;  but  he  gave  up  the  enforcing  of 
his  rights  as  guardian  in  the  face  of  these  primitive 
conditions. 

Willy,  on  the  contrary,  apparently  discovered  that 
he  had  turned  out  extraordinarily  well,  and  looked 
very  pleased  at  this  praise  of  his  mother,  who  con- 
tinued now  rather  vexedly : 

"And  Hartmut  has  not  come  to  breakfast  again ! 


THE    SIGX   OF   FLAME.  1? 

He  seems  to  allow  himself  all  sorts  of  irregularities 
here  at  Burgsdorf.  but  I  shall  lecture  the  young  man 
when  he  comes,  and  make  him " 

"Here  he  is  already!"  cried  a  voice  from  the  gar- 
den. 

A  shadow  fell  athwart  the  bright  sunshine  that 
poured  in  through  the  open  window,  in  which  there 
suddenly  appeared  a  youthful  form,  which  swung  it- 
self through  from  the  outside. 

"Boy,  are  you  out  of  your  senses  that  you  enter 
through  the  window?"  exclaimed  Frau  von  Eschen- 
hagen  indignantly.  "What  are  the  doors  for?" 

"For  Willy  and  other  well-raised  people,"  laughed 
the  intruder  mirthfully.  "I  always  take  the  short- 
est route,  and  this  time  it  led  through  this 
window." 

With  one  jump  he  landed  in  the  middle  of  the 
room  from  the  high  sill. 

Hartmut  Falkenried,  like  the  future  lord  of 
Burgsdorf,  stood  at  the  border  between  boyhood 
and  manhood,  but  beyond  that  likeness  it  required 
but  a  glance  to  see  the  superiority  of  Hartmut  in 
every  respect. 

He  wore  the  cadet  uniform,  which  became  him 
wonderfully,  but  there  was  something  in  his  whole 
appearance  indicative  of  a  revolt  against  the  strict 
military  cut. 

The  tall,  slender  boy  was  a  true  picture  of  youth 
and  beauty,  but  this  beauty  had  something  strange 
and  foreign  about  it;  the  movement  and  whole  ap- 
pearance had  a  wild,  unruled  element ;  and  not  a  fea- 
ture reminded  one  of  the  powerful,  soldierly  figure 
and  grave  composure  of  the  father.  The  thick,  curly 
hair  of  a  blue-black  color,  falling  over  the  high  brow, 
denoted  a  son  of  the  South,  rather  than  a  German; 


18  THE    SIGN    OF    FLAME. 

the  eyes  also,  which  glowed  in  the  youthful  face,  did 
not  belong  to  the  cold,  calm  North ;  they  were  mys- 
terious eyes,  dark  as  night,  yet  full  of  hot,  passion- 
ate fire.  Beautiful  as  they  were,  there  was  some- 
thing uncanny  about  them. 

And  now  the  laugh,  with  which  Hartmut  looked 
from  one  to  another  of  the  assembly,  had  more  of 
the  supercilious  about  it  than  of  a  boy's  hearty  mirth. 

"You  introduce  yourself  in  a  very  unconventional 
manner,"  said  Wallmoden  sharply;  "you  seem  to 
think  that  no  etiquette  is  to  be  observed  at  Burgs- 
dorf.  I  hardly  think  your  father  would  have  per- 
mitted such  an  entrance  into  a  dining-room." 

"He  does  not  take  such  liberties  with  his  father," 
said  Frau  von  Eschenhagen,  who  fortunately  did 
not  feel  the  stab  which  lay  for  her  also  in  her 
brother's  words.  "So  you  finally  come  now,  Hart- 
mut, when  we  have  finished  breakfast?  But  late 
people  do  not  get  anything  to  eat — you  know  that." 

"Yes,  I  know  it,"  returned  Hartmut,  quite  uncon- 
cerned ;  "therefore  I  got  the  housekeeper  to  give  me 
some  breakfast.  You  can't  starve  me  out,  Aunt 
Regine.  I  am  on  too  good  terms  with  all  your 
people." 

"So  you  think  you  will  be  able  to  take  all  sorts  of 
liberties  unpunished,"  cried  the  lady  of  the  house 
angrily.  "You  break  all  the  rules  of  the  house ;  you 
leave  no  person  nor  thing  in  peace;  you  stand  all 
Burgsdorf  upon  its  head!  We  shall  know  how  to 
stop  all  that,  my  boy.  I  shall  send  a  messenger  over 
to  your  father  to-morrow,  to  ask  him  to  kindly  come 
for  his  son,  who  can  be  taught  no  punctuality  or 
obedience." 

This  threat  was  effective ;  the  boy  grew  serious  and 
found  it  best  to  yield. 


THE    SIGX    OF   FLAME.  19 

"Oh,  all  that  is  only  jesting,"  he  said.  "Am  I 
not  to  utilize  the  short  vacation " 

"For  all  sorts  of  foolishness?"  interrupted  Frau 
von  Eschenhagen.  "Willy  in  all  his  life  has  not 
done  so  many  pranks  as  you  in  these  last  three  days. 
You  will  ruin  him  for  me  by  your  bad  example  and 
make  him  also  disobedient." 

"Oh,  Willy  can't  be  ruined ;  all  pains  are  thrown 
away  with  him,"  confessed  Hartmut  frankly. 

The  young  lord  did  not  look,  indeed,  as  if  he  had 
any  inclination  to  disobedience.  Quite  unconcerned 
by  all  this  conversation,  he  calmly  finished  his 
breakfast  by  still  another  piece  of  bread  and 
butter;  but  his  mother  was  highly  incensed  over 
this  remark. 

"You  are  doubtless  extremely  sorry  for  that,"  she 
exclaimed.  "You  have  taken  pains  enough  to  ruin 
him.  Very  well,  it  remains  as  I  said — to-morrow  I 
write  to  your  father." 

"To  come  for  me?  You  will  not  do  that,  Aunt 
Regfine.  You  are  too  good  to  do  that.  You  know 
very  well  how  strict  papa  is — how  harshly  he  can 
punish.  You  surely  will  not  accuse  me  to  him — you 
have  never  done  so  before." 

"Leave  me  alone,  boy,  with  your  flatteries."  Frau 
Regine's  face  was  still  very  grim,  but  her  voice  al- 
ready betrayed  a  perceptible  wavering,  and  Hart- 
mut knew  how  to  take  the  advantage  offered.  With 
the  artless  frankness  of  a  boy,  he  laid  his  arm  around 
her  shoulders. 

"I  thought  you  loved  me  a  little  bit,  Aunt  Regine. 
I — I  have  anticipated  this  trip  to  Burgsdorf  so  joy- 
ously for  weeks.  I  have  longed  until  I  was  sick,  for 
forest  and  lake,  for  the  green  meadows  and  the  wide, 
blue  sky ;  I  have  been  so  happy  here — but,  of  course, 


20  THE    SIGN    OF   FLAME. 

if  you  do  not  want  me,  I  shall  leave  immediately; 
you  do  not  need  to  send  me  away." 

His  voice  sank  to  a  soft,  coaxing  whisper,  while 
the  large,  dark  eyes  helped  with  the  pleading  only 
too  effectively.  They  could  speak  more  fervently 
than  the  lips;  they  seemed,  indeed,  to  have  peculiar 
power. 

Frau  von  Eschenhagen,  who  to  Willy  and  all 
Burgsdorf,  was  the  stern,  absolute  ruler,  now  al- 
lowed herself  to  be  moved  to  compliance. 

"Well,  then,  behave  yourself,  you  Eulenspiegel," 
she  said,  running  her  fingers  through  his  thick  curls. 
"As  to  sending  you  away,  you  know  only  too  well 
that  Willy  and  all  my  people  are  perfectly  foolish 
about  you — and  so  am  I." 

Hartmut  shouted  in  his  happiness  at  these  last 
words,  and  kissed  her  hand  in  fervent  gratitude. 
Then  he  turned  to  his  friend,  who  had  now  happily 
mastered  his  last  sandwich,  and  was  regarding  the 
scene  before  him  in  quiet  amazement. 

"Are  you  through  with  your  breakfast  at  last, 
Willy?  Come  on;  we  wished  to  go  to  the  Burgsdorf 
pond — now  don't  be  so  slow  and  deliberate.  Good- 
by,  Aunt  Regine.  I  see  that  Uncle  Wallmoden  is 
not  pleased  in  the  least  that  you  have  pardoned  me. 
Hurrah !  Now  we  are  off  for  the  woods." 

And  away  he  dashed  over  the  terraces  and  down 
to  the  garden.  There  was  in  this  unruliness  an 
overflowing  youthful  happiness  and  strength  that 
were  enchanting;  the  lad  was  all  life  and  fire.  Willy 
trotted  behind  him  like  a  young  bear,  and  they  dis- 
appeared in  a  few  seconds  behind  the  trees  and 
shrubberies. 

"He  comes  and  goes  like  a  whirlwind,"  said  Frau 
von  Eschenhagen,  looking  after  them.  "That  boy 


THE    SIGN    OF    FLAME.  21 

cannot  be  restrained  when  once  the  reins  are  slack- 
ened." 

"A  dangerous  lad!"  declared  Wallmoden.  "He 
understands  how  to  rule  even  you,  who  otherwise 
rule  supreme.  It  is  the  first  time  in  my  knowledge 
that  you  pardon  disobedience  and  unpunctuality." 

"Yes,  Hartmut  has  something  about  him  that 
really  bewitches  a  body,"  exclaimed  Frau  von  Es- 
chenhagen,  half  vexed  over  her  yielding.  "When 
he  looks  at  one  with  those  glowing,  black  eyes,  and 
begs  and  pleads  besides,  I  would  like  to  see  the  one 
who  could  say  no.  You  are  right ;  he  is  a  dangerous 
lad." 

"Yes,  very  true;  but  let  us  leave  Hartmut  alone 
now  and  consider  the  education  of  your  own -son. 
You  have  really  decided " 

"To  keep  him  at  home.  Do  not  trouble  yourself, 
Herbert.  You  may  be  an  important  diplomat  and 
carry  the  whole  political  business  in  your  pockets, 
but  nevertheless  I  do  not  surrender  my  boy  to  you. 
He  belongs  to  me  alone,  and  I  keep  him — settled!" 

A  hearty  slap  upon  the  table  accompanied  this 
"settled,"  with  which  the  reigning  mistress  of  Burgs- 
dorf  arose  and  walked  out  of  doors ;  but  her  brother 
shrugged  his  shoulders,  and  muttered  half  audibly : 
"Let  him  become  a  country  squire,  for  all  I  care — it 
may  be  best,  anyhow." 


CHAPTER  III. 

IN  the  meantime,  Hartmut  and  Willibald  had 
reached  the  forest  belonging  to  the  estate.  The 
Burgsdorf  pond,  a  lonely  water  bordered  by  rushes 
in  the  midst  of  the  forest,  lay  motionless,  shining 
in  the  sunlight  of  the  quiet  morning  hour. 

The  young  lord  found  for  himself  a  shady  place 
upon  the  bank,  and  devoted  himself  comfortably  and 
persistently  to  the  interesting  occupation  of  fishing, 
•while  the  impatient  Hartmut  roamed  around,  start- 
ing a  bird  here,  plucking  rushes  and  flowers  there, 
and  finally  indulging  in  gymnastics  upon  the  trunk 
of  a  tree  which  lay  half  in  the  water. 

"Can  you  never  be  quiet  in  one  place  ?  You  scare 
off  all  the  fishes,"  said  Willy,  displeased.  "I  have 
not  caught  a  thing  to-day." 

"How  can  you  sit  for  hours  in  one  spot  waiting 
for  the  stupid  fishes — but,  of  course,  you  can  roam 
through  field  and  forest  all  the  year  round  whenever 
you  like.  You  are  free — free !" 

"Are  you  imprisoned?"  asked  Willy.  "Are  not 
you  and  your  companions  out  of  doors  every  day?" 

"But  never  alone — never  without  restraint  and 
supervision.  We  are  eternally  on  duty,  even  in  the 
hours  of  recreation.  Oh,  how  I  hate  it — this  duty 
and  life  of  slavery!" 

"But,  Hartmut,  what  if  your  father  should  hear 
that?" 


THE    SIGN   OF   FLAME.  23 

"He  would  punish  me  again,  then,  as  usual.  He 
has  nothing  for  me  but  severity  and  punishment.  I 
don't  care — it's  all  the  same  to  me." 

He  threw  himself  upon  the  grass,  but  harsh  and 
disagreeable  as  his  words  sounded,  there  was  in 
them  something  like  a  pained,  passionate  complaint. 

Willy  only  shook  his  head  deliberately  fastening  a 
new  bait  to  his  hook  meanwhile,  and  deep  silence 
reigned  for  a  few  moments. 

Suddenly  something  dashed  down  from  on  high, 
lightning-like;  the  water,  just  now  so  motionless, 
splashed  and  foamed,  and  in  the  next  moment  a 
heron  rose  high  in  the  air,  carrying  the  struggling, 
silver-shining  prey  in  his  bill. 

"Bravo !  that  was  a  splendid  shot,"  cried  Hartmut, 
starting  up,  but  Willy  scolded  vexedly.  "The 

con robber  strips  our  whole  pond.  I  shall  tell 

the  forester  to  keep  an  eye  on  him." 

"A  robber!"  repeated  Hartmut,  as  his  eyes  fol- 
lowed the  heron,  which  now  disappeared  behind  the 
tree-tops.  "Yes,  surely;  but  it  must  be  beautiful — 
such  a  free  robber's  life  high  up  in  the  air.  To  dash 
down  from  the  heights  like  a  flash  of  lightning — to 
grab  the  booty,  then  soar  high  with  it  again  where  no 
one  can  follow — that  is  worthy  of  the  chase." 

"Hartmut,  I  actually  believe  you  have  a  good  no- 
tion to  lead  such  a  robber's  life,"  said  Willy,  with  the 
deep  horror  of  a  well-raised  boy  for  such  inclina- 
tions. 

His  companion  laughed,  but  it  was  again  that 
harsh,  strange  laugh  which  had  in  it  nothing  youth- 
ful. 

"And  if  I  should  have  it,  they  would  know  how  to 
get  it  out  of  me  at  the  cadets'  school.  There  is 
obedience — discipline — the  Alpha  and  Omega  of  all 


24  THE   SIGN   OF   FLAME. 

things,  and  one  finally  learns  it,  too.  Willy,  have 
you  never  longed  for  wings  ?" 

"I?  Wings?"  ejaculated  Willy,  whose  full  atten- 
tion was  again  directed  to  hook  and  line.  "Non- 
sense! who  could  wish  for  impossibilities?" 

"I  wish  I  had  some,"  cried  Hartmut,  flaming  up. 
"I  wish  I  were  one  of  the  falcons  of  which  we  hear. 
Then  I  would  soar  high  up  into  the  blue  air — always 
higher  and  higher  toward  the  sun,  and  would  never, 
never  come  back." 

"I  think  you  are  crazy,"  said  the  young  lord  calm- 
ly; "but  I  have  not  caught  anything  yet;  the  fish 
will  not  bite  at  all  to-day.  I  must  try  another  spot." 

He  gathered  up  his  fishing  paraphernalia  and  went 
to  the  other  side  of  the  pond. 

Hartmut  threw  himself  upon  the  ground  again. 

How  could  he  expect  that  the  stolid,  matter-of- 
fact  Willibald  should  harbor  thoughts  of  flying! 

It  was  one  of  those  autumn  days  which  seem  to 
charm  back  the  summer  for  a  few  short  hours — the 
sunshine  was  so  golden,  the  air  so  mild,  the  woods 
so  fresh  and  fragrant.  Thousands  of  brilliant 
sparkles  danced  upon  the  water;  the  rushes  whis- 
pered low  and  mysteriously  as  the  air  breathed 
through  them. 

Hartmut  lay  quite  motionless,  listening  to  this 
mystery  of  whispering  and  fluttering.  The  wild, 
passionate  flame,  which  had  flared  up  almost  un- 
cannily when  he  spoke  of  the  bird  of  prey,  had  dis- 
appeared from  his  eyes.  Now  they  were  riveted 
dreamily  upon  the  shining  blue  of  the  sky,  with  a 
consuming  longing  in  their  depths. 

Light  footsteps  drew  near,  almost  inaudible  on  the 
soft  forest  soil ;  the  bushes  rustled  as  if  brushed  by  a 
silken  garment,  and  parted ;  a  female  figure  emerged 


THE   SIGN   OF   FLAME.  25 

noiselessly  and  stopped  short,  fixing  an  intent  look 
upon  the  young  dreamer. 

"Hartmut!" 

He  started  and  sprang  up  quickly.  He  did  not 
know  the  voice,  nor  the  stranger,  but  it  was  a  lady, 
and  he  bowed  chivalrously. 

"Gracious  lady — 

A  slender  and  trembling  hand  was  laid  hastily 
and  warningly  upon  his  arm. 

"Hush — not  so  loud — your  companion  might  hear 
us,  and  I  must  speak  with  you,  Hartmut — with  you 
alone." 

She  stepped  back  again  and  motioned  him  to  fol- 
low. Hartmut  hesitated  a  moment.  How  came 
this  stranger,  whose  face  was  closely  veiled,  but  who, 
to  judge  by  her  dress,  belonged  to  the  highest  class, 
at  this  lonely  forest  pond?  And  what  was  the 
meaning  of  the  familiar  "thou"  from  her  to  him, 
whom  she  saw  now  for  the  first  time  ?  But  the  mys- 
tery of  the  encounter  began  to  interest  him,  and  he 
followed  her. 

They  stopped  under  the  protection  of  the  bushes 
where  they  could  not  be  seen  from  the  other  side,  and 
the  stranger  slowly  raised  her  veil. 

She  was  no  longer  in  her  youth — a  woman  still 
in  her  thirties — but  the  face  with  the  dark,  flashing 
eyes  possessed  a  strange  fascination,  and  the  same 
charm  was  in  the  voice,  which,  even  in  the  whisper, 
was  soft  and  deep,  with  a  foreign  accent,  as  if  the 
German  which  she  spoke  so  fluently  was  not  her  na- 
tive tongue. 

"Hartmut,  look  at  me.  Do  you  really  not  re- 
member me  ?  Have  you  not  kept  some  recollection 
from  your  childhood  that  tells  you  who  I  am  ?" 

The  young  man  shook  his  head  slowly,  and  yet 


26  THE    SIGN   OF   FLAME. 

there  arose  in  his  mind  a  remembrance,  misty  and 
dreamlike,  that  told  him  he  did  not  now  hear  this 
voice  for  the  first  time — that  he  had  seen  this  face 
before  in  times  long,  long  past.  Half  timidly,  half 
transfixed,  he  stood  there  gazing  upon  the  stranger, 
who  suddenly  stretched  out  both  arms  toward  him. 

"My  son !  my  only  child !  do  you  not  know  your 
mother?" 

Hartmut  retreated,  startled. 

"My  mother  is  dead,"  he  said  in  a  low  tone. 

The  stranger  laughed  bitterly;  it  sounded  exactly 
like  that  harsh,  unchildlike  laugh  which  had  come 
from  the  lips  of  the  lad  only  a  short  while  ago. 

"So  that  is  it;  they  have  called  me  dead.  They 
would  not  leave  you  even  the  memory  of  your 
mother.  But  it  is  not  true,  Hartmut.  I  live — I 
stand  before  you.  Look  at  me !  look  at  my  features, 
which  are  yours  also.  They  could  not  take  those 
from  you.  Child  of  my  heart,  do  you  not  feel  that 
you  belong  to  me?" 

Still  Hartmut  stood  motionless,  looking  into  the 
face  in  which  he  saw  his  own  reflected  as  in  a  mirror. 
There  were  the  same  features,  the  same  abundant, 
blue-black  hair;  the  same  large,  deep  black  eyes — 
yes — even  the  strange  demoniac  expression  which 
glowed  like  a  flame  in  the  mother's  eyes,  glimmered 
as  a  spark  in  the  eyes  of  the  son.  The  natural  re- 
semblance showed  that  they  were  of  the  same  blood, 
and  now  the  voice  of  that  blood  woke  up  in  the 
young  man. 

He  did  not  ask  for  explanations — for  proofs ;  the 
confused,  dream-like  recollections  suddenly  became 
clear.  Only  one  more  second  of  hesitation,  then  he 
threw  himself  into  the  arms  which  were  open  for 
him. 


THE    SIGN    OF   FLAME.  27 

"Mother!" 

In  the  exclamation  lay  the  glowing  devotion  of  the 
lad,  who  had  never  known  what  it  was  to  possess  a 
mother,  and  who  had  longed  for  it  with  all  his  pas- 
sionate nature. 

His  mother!  As  he  lay  in  her  arms  while  she 
overwhelmed  him  with  passionate  caresses — with 
tender,  fond  names  such  as  he  had  never  heard,  all 
else  disappeared  in  the  flood  of  overwhelming  de- 
light. 

Several  minutes  passed  thus,  then  Hartmut  disen- 
gaged himself  from  the  embrace  which  would  have 
detained  him. 

"Why  have  you  never  been  with  me,  mamma?" 
he  asked  vehemently.  "Why  did  they  tell  me  that 
you  were  dead?" 

Zalika  drew  back.  In  a  moment  all  the  tenderness 
vanished  from  her  face ;  a  light  kindled  there  of  wild, 
deadly  hatred,  and  the  answer  came  hissing  from  her 
lips: 

"Because  your  father  hates  me,  my  son,  and  be- 
cause he  did  not  wish  to  leave  me  even  the  love  of 
my  only  child  when  he  thrust  me  from  him." 

Hartmut  was  silent  with  consternation.  He  knew 
well  that  no  one  dared  mention  his  mother's  name 
in  his  father's  presence — that  his  father  had  once 
silenced  him  with  the  greatest  harshness  when  he 
had  ventured  to  ask  for  her,  but  he  had  been  too 
young  to  muse  over  the  why. 

Zalika  did  not  give  him  time  for  it  now.  She 
stroked  the  dark,  curly  hair  back  from  the  high  fore- 
head, and  a  shadow  rested  on  her  face. 

"You  have  his  brow,"  she  said  slowly,  "but  that  is 
the  only  thing  to  remind  of  him;  everything  else 
belongs  to  me — to  me  alone.  Every  feature  tells 


28  THE    SIGN   OF    FLAME. 

that  you  are  wholly  mine.  I  knew  it  would 
be  so." 

Again  she  embraced  him,  overwhelming  him  with 
caresses,  which  Hartmut  returned  as  passionately. 
It  was  an  intoxication  of  happiness  to  him — like  one 
of  the  fairy  tales  of  which  he  had  so  often  dreamed, 
and  he  gave  himself  up  to  the  charm  unquestion- 
ingly  and  unreservedly. 

But  now  Willy  made  himself  heard  on  the  oppo-. 
site  bank,  calling  loudly  for  his  friend,  and  remind- 
ing him  that  it  was  time  to  return  home. 

Zalika  started. 

"We  must  part.  Nobody  must  know  that  I  have 
seen  you  and  spoken  with  you,  particularly  your 
father.  When  do  you  return  to  him?" 

"In  eight  days." 

"Not  until  then?"  The  tone  was  triumphant. 
"I  shall  see  you  every  day  until  then.  Be  here  at 
the  pond  to-morrow  at  the  same  hour.  Dispense 
with  your  companion  under  some  pretext,  so  that 
we  may  be  undisturbed.  You  will  come,  Hartmut  ?" 

"Certainly  mother,  but " 

She  did  not  give  him  time  for  an  excuse,  but  con- 
tinued in  the  same  passionate  whisper: 

"Above  all,  be  silent  to  everybody;  do  not  forget 
that.  Farewell,  my  child,  my  beloved  only  son.  Au 
revoir!" 

One  more  fervent  kiss  upon  Hartmut's  brow,  then 
she  vanished  in  the  bushes  as  mysteriously  as  she  had 
appeared.  It  was  quite  time,  for  Willy  appeared  on 
the  scene,  his  approach  being  heralded  by  his  heavy 
stamping  upon  the  forest  ground. 

"Why  do  you  not  answer?"  he  demanded.  "I 
have  called  three  times.  Did  you  fall  asleep  ?  You 
look  as  if  you  had  been  startled  from  a  dream." 


THE    SIGN    OF   FLAME.  29 

Hartmut  stood  as  if  stunned,  gazing  upon  the 
bushes  in  which  his  mother  had  disappeared.  At 
his  cousin's  words  he  straightened  himself  and  drew 
his  hand  across  his  brow. 

"Yes,  I  have  been  dreaming,"  he  said,  slowly; 
"quite  a  wonderful,  strange  dream." 

"You  might  rather  have  been  fishing,"  said  Willy; 
"just  see  what  a  splendid  catch  I  got  over  on  the 
other  bank.  A  person  ought  not  to  dream  in  broad 
daylight.  He  ought  to  be  properly  occupied,  my 
mother  says — and  my  mother  is  always  right." 


CHAPTER  IV. 

THE  families  of  Falkenried  and  Wallmoden  had 
been  friendly  for  years.  As  owners  of  adjoining 
estates  they  visited  each  other  frequently;  the  chil- 
dren grew  up  together,  and  many  mutual  interests 
drew  the  bonds  of  friendship  still  closer. 

As  both  families  were  only  comfortably  well  off, 
the  sons  had  their  own  way  to  make,  which,  after 
completing  their  education,  Major  Hartmut  von 
Falkenried  and  Herbert  Wallmoden  had  done.  They 
had  been  playmates  as  children,  and  had  remained 
true  to  that  friendship  when  grown  to  manhood. 

At  one  time  the  parents  thought  to  cement  this 
friendship  by  a  marriage  between  the — at  that  time 
— Lieutenant  Falkenried  and  Regine  Wallmoden. 
The  young  couple  seemed  in  perfect  accord  writh  it, 
and  all  looked  propitious  for  the  match,  when  some- 
thing took  place  which  brought  the  plan  to  a  sudden 
end. 

A  cousin  of  the  Wallmoden  family — an  incorri- 
gible fellow  who,  through  divers  bad  capers,  had 
made  it  impossible  to  remain  at  home,  had,  long  ago, 
gone  out  into  the  wide  world.  After  much  travel 
and  a  rather  adventurous  life,  he  had  landed  in  Rou- 
mania.  where  he  acted  as  inspector  upon  the  estates 
of  a  rich  Bojar.  The  rich  man  died,  and  the  in- 
spector thought  best  to  retrieve  his  lost  fortunes  and 
position  in  life  by  marriage  with  the  widow. 

It  was  consummated,  and  he  returned  to  his  old 


THE    SIGN    OF   FLAME.  31 

home,  accompanied  by  his  wife,  for  a  visit  to  his 
relatives,  after  an  absence  of  more  than  ten  years. 

Frau  von  Wallmoden's  bloom  of  youth  had  long 
passed,  but  she  brought  with  her  her  daughter  by  her 
first  marriage — Zalika  Rojanow. 

The  young  girl,  hardly  seventeen  years  old,  with 
her  foreign  beauty  and  charm  of  her  glowing  tem- 
perament, burst  like  a  meteor  upon  the  horizon  of 
this  German  country  nobility,  whose  life  flowed  in 
such  calm,  even  channels. 

And  she  was  a  strange  object  in  this  circle,  whose 
forms  and  manners  she  disregarded  with  sovereign 
indifference,  and  who  stared  at  her  as  at  a  being 
from  another  world.  There  was  many  a  serious 
shaking  of  heads  and  much  condemnation,  which  was 
not  uttered  aloud,  because  they  saw  in  the  girl  only 
a  temporary  visitor,  who  would  disappear  as  sud- 
denly as  she  had  come  into  view. 

Just  about  this  time  Hartmut  Falkenried  came 
from  his  garrison  to  the  paternal  estates,  and  be- 
came acquainted*  with  the  new  relatives  of  his 
friends.  He  saw  Zalika  and  recognized  in  her  his 
fate.  It  was  one  of  those  passions  which  spring  up 
lightning-like — which  resemble  the  intoxication  of  a 
dream,  and  are  paid  for  only  too  frequently  with  the 
penance  of  the  whole  life. 

Forgotten  were  the  wishes  of  the  parents,  his  own 
plans  for  the  future — forgotten  the  quiet  affection 
which  had  drawn  him  to  his  playmate  Regine.  He 
no  longer  had  eyes  for  the  domestic  flower  which 
bloomed  young  and  fresh  for  him ;  he  breathed  only 
the  intoxicating  perfume  of  the  foreign  wonder- 
plant.  All  else  disappeared  before  her,  and  in  a 
quiet  hour  with  her  he  threw  himself  at  her  feet, 
confessing  his  love. 


32  THE    SIGN   OF   FLAME. 

Strangely  enough,  his  feelings  were  returned. 
Perhaps  it  was  the  truth  of  extremes  meeting  which 
drew  Zalika  to  a  man  who  was  her  opposite  in  every 
respect;  perhaps  she  was  flattered  by  the  fact  that 
a  glance,  a  word  from  her  could  change  the  grave, 
calm  and  almost  gloomy  nature  of  the  young  officer 
to  enthusiasm. 

Enough,  she  accepted  his  proposal  and  he  was  per- 
mitted to  embrace  her  as  his  betrothed. 

The  news  of  this  engagement  created  a  storm  in 
the  whole  family  circle;  entreaties  and  warnings 
came  from  all  sides ;  even  Zalika's  mother  and  step- 
father opposed  it,  but  the  universal  disapproval  only 
increased  the  determination  of  the  young  couple, 
and  six  months  later  Falkenried  led  his  young  wife 
into  his  home. 

But  the  voices  who  prophesied  misfortune  to  this 
marriage  were  in  the  right.  The  bitterest  disap- 
pointment followed  the  short  term  of  happiness.  It 
had  been  a  dangerous  mistake  to  believe  that  a 
woman  like  Zalika  Rojanow,  grown  up  in  boundless 
freedom  and  accustomed  to  the  uncontrolled,  ex- 
travagant life  of  the  families  of  the  Bojars  of  her 
country,  could  ever  submit  herself  to  German  views 
and  conditions. 

To  gallop  about  on  fiery  horses ;  to  associate  freely 
with  men  who  spent  their  time  in  hunting  and  gam- 
bling, and  who  surrounded  themselves  in  their 
homes  with  a  splendor  which  went  hand  in  hand  with 
the  most  corrupted  indebtedness  of  estates — such 
was  life  as  she  had  known  it  so  far,  and  the  only  life 
which  suited  her. 

A  conception  of  duty  was  as  foreign  to  her  as  the 
knowledge  of  her  new  position  in  life.  And  this 
woman  was  to  accommodate  herself  now  to  the 


THE    SIGN    OF    FLAME.  33 

household  of  a  young  officer  of  but  limited  means, 
and  to  the  conditions  of  a  small  German  garrison! 

That  this  was  impossible  was  proved  in  the  first 
weeks.  Zalika  began  by  throwing  aside  every  con- 
sideration, and  furnishing  her  house  in  her  usual 
style,  squandering  heedlessly  her  by  no  means  in- 
significant dowry. 

In  vain  her  husband  entreated,  remonstrated;  he 
found  no  hearing.  She  had  only  sarcasm  for  forms 
and  rules  which  were  holy  to  him;  only  a  shrug  of 
the  shoulder  for  his  strict  sense  of  honor  and  ideas 
of  decorum. 

Very  soon  they  had  the  most  vehement  contro- 
versies, and  Falkenried  recognized  too  late  the  seri- 
ous error  which  he  had  committed.  He  had  counted 
upon  the  all-powerful  efficacy  of  love  to  battle 
against  those  warning  voices  which  had  pointed  out 
the  difference  of  descent,  education  and  character, 
but  he  was  forced  now  to  recognize  that  Zalika  had 
never  loved  him ;  that  caprice  alone,  or  a  sudden  out- 
burst of  passion,  which  died  as  suddenly,  had 
brought  her  to  his  arms. 

She  saw  in  him  now  only  the  uncomfortable  com- 
panion who  begrudged  her  every  pleasure  of  life; 
who,  with  his  foolish — his  ridiculous  ideas  of  honor, 
fettered  and  bound  her  on  every  side.  Still,  she 
feared  this  man,  whose  dominant  will  succeeded  al- 
ways in  bowing  her  characterless  nature  under  his 
rod. 

Even  the  birth  of  little  Hartmut  was  not  sufficient 
to  reconcile  this  unhappy  marriage ;  it  only  held  it, 
apparently,  together.  Zalika  loved  her  child  pas- 
sionately ;  she  knew  her  husband  would  never  permit 
her  to  keep  it  if  they  separated.  This  alone  retained 
her  at  his  side,  while  Falkenried  bore  his  domestic 


34  THE    SIGN   OF   FLAME. 

misery  with  concealed  pain,  putting  forth  every  ef- 
fort to  hide  it  at  least  from  the  world. 

Nevertheless,  the  world  knew  the  truth ;  it  knew 
things  of  which  the  husband  did  not  even  dream  and 
which  were  kept  concealed  from  him  through  sheer 
compassion. 

But  finally  the  day  came  when  the  deceived  hus- 
band was  told  what  was  no  secret  to  others. 

The  immediate  result  following  was  a  duel  in 
which  Falkenried's  opponent  fell.  Falkenried  him- 
self was  imprisoned,  but  was  soon  pardoned. 

Every  one  knew  that  the  offended  husband  had 
only  vindicated  his  honor. 

In  the  meantime,  steps  were  taken  for  a  divorce, 
which  was  granted  in  due  time.  Zalika  made  no 
opposition.  She  dared  not  approach  her  husband; 
she  trembled  before  him  since  that  hour  of  separa- 
tion, when  he  had  called  her  to  account;  but  she 
made  desperate  efforts  to  secure  the  possession  of 
her  child,  fighting  as  for  life. 

It  was  in  vain.  Hartmut  was  given  uncondition- 
ally to  his  father,  who  knew  how  to  prevent  every 
approach  of  the  mother  with  iron  inflexibility. 

Zalika  was  not  even  allowed  to  see  her  son  again, 
and  it  was  only  after  convincing  herself  entirely  on 
that  point  that  she  left — returning  to  the  home  of 
her  mother. 

She  had  seemed  lost  to  and  forgotten  by  her  for- 
mer husband  until  she  suddenly  reappeared  in  Ger- 
many, where  Major  Falkenried  now  held  an  impor- 
tant position  in  the  large  military  school  at  the 
Residenz. 

****** 

It  was  about  a  week  after  the  arrival  of  Hartmut 
at  Burgsdorf.  Frau  von  Eschenhagen  was  in  he.r 


THE   SIGN   OF   FLAME.  35 

sitting-room  with  Major  Falkenried,  who  had  but 
just  arrived. 

The  topic  of  their  conversation  seemed  to  be  very 
serious  and  of  a  rather  disagreeable  nature,  for  Falk- 
enried listened  with  a  gloomy  face  to  his  friend, 
who  was  speaking. 

"I  noticed  Hartmut's  changed  demeanor  the  third 
or  fourth  day.  The  boy,  whose  mirth  at  first  knew 
no  bounds,  so  that  I  even  threatened  to  send  him 
back  home,  suddenly  became  subdued.  He  com- 
mitted no  more  foolish  pranks,  but  roamed  for  hours 
through  the  woods  alone,  and  when  he  returned  was 
always  dreaming  with  his  eyes  open,  to  such  an  ex- 
tent that  one  had  almost  to  awake  him.  'He  is  be- 
ginning to  get  sensible,'  said  Herbert;  but  I  said, 
'Things  are  not  going  right;  there  is  something  be- 
hind all  this,'  and  I  questioned  my  Willy,  who  also 
appeared  quite  peculiar.  He  was  actually  in  the 
plot.  He  had  surprised  the  two  one  day.  Hart- 
mut  had  made  him  promise  to  keep  silent,  and  my 
boy  positively  hid  something  from  me,  his  mother! 
He  confessed  only  when  I  got  after  him  seriously. 
Well,  he  will  not  do  it  a  second  time.  I  have  taken 
care  of  that." 

"And  Hartmut  ?  What  did  he  say  ?"  interrupted 
the  Major  hastily. 

"Nothing  at  all,  for  I  have  not  spoken  a  syllable 
to  him  about  it.  He  would  probably  have  asked 
me  why  he  should  not  see  and  speak  to  his  own 
mother,  and  only — his  father  can  give  him  the  an- 
swer to  that  question." 

"He  has  probably  heard  it  already  from  the  other 
side,"  said  Falkenried  bitterly;  "but  he  has  hardly 
learned  the  truth." 

"I  fear  so,  too,  and  therefore  I  did  not  lose  a  min- 


36  THE    SIGN    OF   FLAME. 

ute  in  notifying  you  after  discovering  the  affair. 
But  what  next  ?" 

"I  shall  have  to  interfere  now,"  replied  the  Major 
with  forced  composure.  "I  thank  you,  Regine.  I 
apprehended  trouble  when  your  letter  called  me  so 
imperatively.  Herbert  was  right.  I  ought  not  to 
have  allowed  my  son  to  leave  my  side  for  an  hour 
under  the  circumstances.  But  I  believed  him  safe 
from  every  approach  here  at  Burgsdorf.  And  he 
anticipated  the  trip  with  such  pleasure — he  longed 
for  it  almost  passionately.  I  did  not  have  the  heart 
to  refuse  him.  He  is  happy,  anyway,  only  when 
absent  from  me." 

There  was  deep  pain  in  the  last  words,  but  Frau 
von  Eschenhagen  only  shrugged  her  shoulders. 

"That  is  not  the  fault  of  .the  boy  alone,"  she  said 
straightforwardly.  "I  also  keep  my  Willy  under 
good  control,  but  nevertheless  he  knows  that  he  has 
a  mother  whose  heart  is  full  of  him.  Hartmut  does 
not  know  that  of  his  father.  He  knows  him  only 
from  a  grave,  unapproachable  side.  If  he  had  an 
idea  that  you  idolize  him  secretly " 

"He  would  abuse  the  knowledge  and  disarm  me 
with  his  caressing  tenderness.  Shall  I  allow  myself 
to  be  ruled  by  him  as  every  one  else  is  who  comes 
into  his  presence  ?  His  comrades  follow  him  blindly 
although  he  brings  punishment  upon  them  by  his 
pranks.  He  has  your  Willibald  completely  under 
control — yes,  even  his  teachers  treat  him  with  par- 
ticular indulgence.  I  am  the  only  one  he  fears,  and 
consequently  the  only  one  he  respects." 

"And  you  think  by  fear  alone  to  succeed  with  the 
boy,  who  is  doubtless  now  being  overwhelmed  with 
the  most  senseless  caresses!  Do  not  turn  away, 
Falkenried;  you  know  I  have  never  mentioned  that 


THE    SIGN   OF   FLAME.  37 

name  to  you,  but  now  that  it  is  brought  forward  so 
prominently,  one  may  speak  it.  And  since  we  hap- 
pen to  be  upon  the  subject,  I  tell  you  frankly  that 
nothing  else  could  be  expected  since  Frau  Zalika's 
appearance.  It  would  have  done  no  good  to  have 
kept  Hartmut  from  Burgsdorf,  for  one  cannot  treat 
a  seventeen-year-old  lad  like  a  little  child.  The 
mother  would  have  found  her  way  to  him  in  spite  of 
all — and  it  was  her  right.  I  would  have  done  just 
so,  too." 

"Her  right !"  cried  the  Major  angrily.  "And  you 
tell  me  that,  Regine?" 

"I  say  it  because  I  know  what  it  is  to  have  an  only 
child.  That  you  should  take  the  child  from  its 
mother  was  right — such  a  mother  was  not  fit  for  the 
raising  of  a  boy — but  that  you  now  refuse  to  let  her 
see  her  son  again  after  twelve  years  is  harshness 
and  cruelty,  which  hatred  alone  can  teach  you.  How- 
ever great  her  faults  may  be,  that  punishment  is  too 
severe." 

Falkenried  stared  gloomily  before  him — he  might 
have  felt  the  truth  of  the  words.  Finally  he  said, 
slowly : 

"I  would  never  have  thought  that  you  would  take 
Zalika's  part.  I  offended  you  bitterly  once  for  her 
sake — I  broke  a  bond " 

"Which  had  not  even  been  tied,"  interrupted  Frau 
von  Eschenhagen.  "It  was  a  plan  of  our  parents — 
nothing  more." 

"But  the  idea  was  dear  and  familiar  to  us  from 
childhood.  Do  not  attempt  to  excuse  me,  Regine; 
I  only  know  too  well  what  I  did  at  that  time  to  you 
and — to  myself." 

Regine  fixed  her  clear,  gray  eyes  upon  him,  but 
there  was  a  moist  gleam  in  them  as  she  replied : 


38  THE   SIGN   OF   FLAME. 

"Well,  yes,  Hartmut ;  now  since  we  are  both  long 
past  our  youth,  I  may,  perhaps,  confess  that  I  liked 
you  then.  You  might  have  been  able  to  make  some- 
thing better  of  me  than  I  am  now.  I  was  always  a 
self-willed  child — not  easy  to  rule;  but  I  would  have 
followed  you — perhaps  you  alone  of  all  the  world. 
When  I  went  to  the  altar  with  Eschenhagen  three 
months  after  your  marriage,  matters  were  reversed. 

I  took  the  reins  into  my  own  hands  and  began  to 
command,  and  since  then  I  have  learned  it  thor- 
oughly   But  now,  away  with  that  old  story, 

long  since  past.  I  have  not  thought  hard  of  you 
because  of  it — you  know  that. 

"We  have  remained  friends  in  spite  of  it,  and  if 
you  need  me  now,  in  advice  as  well  as  deed,  I  am 
ready  to  help  you." 

She  offered  her  hand,  which  he  grasped. 

"I  know  it,  Regine,  but  I  alone  can  advise  here. 
Please  send  Hartmut  to  me.  I  must  speak  to  him." 

Frau  von  Eschenhagen  arose  and  left  the  room, 
murmuring  as  she  went :  "If  only  it  is  not  too  late 
already!  She  blinded  and  enraptured  the  father 
once.  She  has  probably  secured  her  son  now." 


CHAPTER  V. 

HARTMUT  entered  the  room  and  closed  the  door 
behind  him,  but  remained  standing  near  it.  Falken- 
ried  turned  toward  him. 

"Come  nearer,  Hartmut ;  I  must  speak  with  you." 

The  youth  obeyed,  drawing  near  slowly. 

He  already  knew  that  Willibald  had  had  to  con- 
fess; that  his  rendezvous  with  his  mother  had  been 
betrayed;  but  the  awe  with  which  he  always  ap- 
proached his  father  was  mingled  to-day  with  defi- 
ance, which  was  not  unnoticed  by  the  Major. 

He  scanned  the  youthful,  handsome  person  of  his 
son  with  a  long,  gloomy  glance. 

"My  sudden  arrival  does  not  seem  to  surprise 
you,"  he  began;  "you  probably  know  what  brought 
me  here." 

"Yes,  father,  I  surmise  it." 

"Very  well,  we  do  not  need  then  to  continue  with 
preliminaries.  You  have  learned  that  your  mother 
is  still  living.  She  has  approached  you  and  you  are 
in  communication  with  her.  I  know  it  already. 
When  did  you  see  her  for  the  first  time  ?" 

"Five  days  ago." 

"And  since  then  you  have  spoken  with  her  daily?" 

"Yes,  near  the  Burgsdorf  pond." 

Question  and  reply  alike  sounded  curt  and  calm. 

Hartmut  was  accustomed  to  this  strict,  military 
manner,  even  in  his  private  intercourse  with  his 
father,  who  never  allowed  a  superfluous  word,  a 

39 


40  THE    SIGN   OF   FLAME. 

hesitation  or  evasion  in  the  answers.  This  tone  was 
kept  up  even  to-day  to  veil  his  painful  excitement 
from  the  eyes  of  his  son.  Hartmut  saw  only  the 
grave,  unmoved  face;  heard  only  the  sound  of  cold 
severity  as  the  Major  continued : 

"I  will  not  make  it  a  reproach  to  you,  as  I  have 
never  forbidden  you  anything  regarding  it ;  the  sub- 
ject has  never  been  mentioned  between  us.  But 
since  matters  have  gone  so  far,  I  will  have  to  break 
the  silence.  You  thought  your  mother  dead,  and  I 
have  silently  allowed  you  to  think  so,  for  I  wished 
to  save  you  from  reminiscences  which  have  poisoned 
my  life.  I  meant  that  your  youth,  at  least,  should 
be  free  from  it.  It  seems  that  it  cannot  be,  so  you 
may  hear  the  truth." 

He  paused  for  a  moment.  It  was  torture  to  the 
man,  with  his  delicate  sense  of  honor,  to  talk  on  this 
subject  before  his  son,  but  there  was  no  longer  a 
choice — he  must  speak  on. 

"I  loved  your  mother  passionately  when  a  young 
officer,  and  married  her  against  the  wish  of  my  pa- 
rents, who  saw  no  good  to  result  from  a  marriage 
with  a  woman  of  foreign  race.  They  were  right, 
the  marriage  was  deeply  unfortunate,  and  we  finally 
separated  at  my  desire.  I  had  an  undeniable  right 
to  demand  the  separation,  and  also  the  possession 
of  my  son,  which  was  granted  me  unconditionally. 
1  cannot  tell  you  any  more,  for  I  will  not  accuse  the 
mother  to  the  son ;  therefore  let  this  suffice  you." 

Short  and  harsh  as  this  explanation  sounded,  it 
yet  made  a  strange  impression  upon  Hartmut.  The 
father  would  not  accuse  the  mother  to  him,  who  had 
been  hearing  daily  the  most  bitter  accusation,  abuse 
and  slander  against  the  father. 

Zalika  had  put  the  whole  blame  of  the  separation 


THE    SIGN   OF   FLAME.  41 

upon  her  husband,  upon  his  unheard-of  tyranny,  and 
she  found  only  too  willing  a  listener  in  the  youth 
whose  unruly  nature  suffered  so  intensely  under  that 
severity.  And  yet  those  short,  earnest  words  now 
weighed  more  than  all  the  passionate  outbursts  of 
the  mother.  Hartmut  felt  instinctively  upon  which 
side  the  truth  stood. 

"But  now  to  the  most  important  point,"  resumed 
Falkenried.  "What  has  been  the  subject  of  your 
conversation  ?" 

Hartmut  had  not  expected  this  question,  and  a 
burning  blush  suffused  his  face.  He  was  silent  and 
looked  to  the  ground. 

"Ah,  so !  you  do  not  dare  to  repeat  it  to  me ;  but 
I  request  to  know  it.  Answer,  I  command  you!" 

But  Hartmut  remained  silent;  he  only  closed  his 
lips  more  firmly,  and  his  eyes  met  his  father's  with 
dark  defiance.  . 

Falkenried  now  drew  nearer. 

"You  will  not  speak  ?  Has  a  command  from  that 
side,  perhaps,  made  you  silent?  Never  mind,  your 
silence  says  more  than  words.  I  see  how  much  es- 
tranged from  me  you  have  become,  and  you  would 
become  lost  entirely  to  me  if  I  should  leave  you 
longer  under  that  influence.  These  meetings  with 
your  mother  must  be  ended.  I  forbid  them.  You 
will  accompany  me  home  to-day  and  remain  under 
my  supervision.  Whether  it  seems  cruel  to  you  or 
not,  it  must  be  so,  and  you  will  obey." 

But  the  Major  was  mistaken  when  he  thought  to 
bow  his  son  to  his  will  by  a  simple  command. 

Hartmut  had  been  in  a  school  during  these  last 
days  where  defiance  against  the  father  had  been 
taught  him  in  the  most  effectual  manner. 

"Father,  you  will    not — you    cannot    command 


42  THE    SIGN   OF   FLAME. 

that,"  he  burst  forth  now  with  overpowering  ve- 
hemence. "It  is  my  mother  who  is  found  again; 
the  only  one  in  the  whole  world  who  loves  me.  I 
shall  not  let  her  be  taken  from  me  again  as  she  has 
already  been  taken.  I  shall  not  allow  myself  to  be 
forced  to  hate  her  because  you  hate  her.  Threaten — 
punish  me — do  whatever  you  will  with  me,  but  I  do 
not  obey  this  time.  I  will  not  obey." 

The  whole  unruly,  passionate  nature  of  the  young 
man  was  in  these  words;  the  uncanny  fire  flamed 
again  in  his  eyes;  the  hands  were  clenched;  every 
fibre  throbbed  in  wild  rebellion.  He  was  apparently 
decided  to  do  battle  against  the  long-feared  father. 

But  the  burst  of  anger  which  he  so  confidently  ex- 
pected did  not  come.  Falkenried  only  looked  at 
him  silently,  but  with  a  glance  of  grave,  deep  re- 
proach. 

"The  only  one  in  the  whole  world  who  loves  you !" 
he  repeated  slowly.  "You  have,  perhaps,  forgotten 
that  you  still  have  a  father." 

"Who  does  not  love  me,  though,"  cried  Hartmut 
in  overwhelming  bitterness.  "Only  since  I  have 
found  my  mother  have  I  known  what  love  is." 

"Hartmut!" 

The  youth  looked  up,  startled  by  the  strange, 
pained  tone  which  he  heard  for  the  first  time,  and 
the  defiance  which  was  about  to  break  forth  again 
died  on  his  lips. 

"Because  I  have  no  pet  names  and  caresses  for 
you ;  because  I  have  raised  you  with  seriousness  and 
firmness,  do  you  doubt  my  love?"  said  Falkenried, 
still  in  the  same  voice.  "Do  you  know  what  this 
severity  toward  my  only,  my  beloved  child  has  cost 
me?" 

"Father!" 


THE    SIGN   OF   FLAME.  43 

The  word  sounded  still  timid  and  hesitating,  but 
no  longer  with  the  old  fear  and  awe;  it  now  con- 
tained something  like  budding  faith  and  trust;  like 
a  happy  but  half-comprehended  surprise,  and  with  it 
Hartmut's  eyes  hung  as  if  riveted  upon  his  father's 
features.  Falkenried  now  put  his  hand  upon  his 
son's  arm,  drawing  him  nearer,  while  he  continued : 

"I  once  had  high  ambitions,  proud  hopes  of  life, 
great  plans  and  aspirations,  which  came  to  an  end 
when  a  blow  fell  upon  me  from  which  I  shall  never 
be  able  to  rally.  If  I  still  aspire  and  struggle,  it  is 
from  a  sense  of  duty  and  because  of  you,  Hartmut. 
In  you  centers  all  my  ambition ;  to  make  your  future 
great  and  happy  is  the  only  thing  which  I  yet  desire 
of  life ;  and  your  future  can  be  made  great,  my  son, 
for  your  gifts  are  extraordinary  ones;  your  will  is 
strong  in  good  as  well  as  evil.  But  there  is  yet 
something  dangerous  in  your  nature,  which  is  less 
your  fault  than  your  doom,  and  which  must  be  taken 
in  hand  in  time,  if  it  is  not  to  develop  and  dash  you 
into  destruction.  I  had  to  be  severe  to  banish  this 
unfortunate  tendency;  it  has  not  been  easy  for  me." 

The  face  of  the  youth  was  covered  by  a  deep  blush. 
With  panting  breath  he  seemed  to  read  every  word 
from  his  father's  lips,  and  now  he  said  in  a  whisper, 
in  which  the  suppressed  joy  could  scarcely  be  hid- 
den: 

"I  have  not  dared  to  love  you  so  far.  You  have 
always  been  so  cold — so  unapproachable,  and  I " 

He  broke  off  and  glanced  up  at  his  father,  who 
now  put  his  arm  around  Hartmut's  shoulders,  draw- 
ing him  still  closer  to  him.  Then  eyes  looked  deep 
into  eyes,  and  the  voice  of  the  iron  man  broke  as  he 
said,  lowly : 

"You  are  my  only  child,  Hartmut,  the  only  thing 


44  THE   SIGN   OF   FLAME. 

which  has  remained  to  me  from  a  dream  of  happi- 
ness that  dispersed  in  bitterness  and  disappointment. 
I  lost  much  at  that  time  and  have  borne  it ;  but  if  I 
should  lose  you — you — I  could  not  bear  it." 

His  arms  closed  around  his  son  tightly,  as  if  they 
could  never  be  detached.  Hartmut  had  thrown 
himself  sobbing  upon  his  father's  breast,  and  father 
and  son  held  each  other  in  a  long,  passionate  em- 
brace. 

Both  had  forgotten  that  a  shadow  from  the  past 
still  stood  threateningly  and  separatingly  between 

them. 

****** 

In  the  meantime,  Frau  von  Eschenhagen,  in  her 
dining-room,  was  giving  Willy  a  curtain  lecture. 
She  had  done  so,  in  fact,  this  morning,  but  was  of 
the  opinion  that  a  double  portion  would  not  come 
amiss  in  this  case.  The  young  heir  looked  com- 
pletely crushed.  He  felt  himself  in  the  wrong,  as 
well  toward  his  mother  as  toward  his  friend,  and  yet 
he  was  quite  blameless.  He  allowed  himself  to  be 
lectured  patiently,  like  an  obedient  son,  only  throw- 
ing an  occasional  sad  look  over  at  the  supper  which 
already  stood  upon  the  table,  although  his  mother 
did  not  take  any  notice  of  it  at  all. 

"This  is  what  comes  of  having  secrets  behind  the 
backs  of  parents,"  she  said  severely,  concluding  her 
lecture. 

"Hartmut  is  getting  what  he  deserves  in  yonder ; 
the  Major  will  not  treat  him  very  mildly.  I  think 
you  will  let  playing  helpmate  in  such,  a  plot  alone  in 
the  future." 

"But  I  have  not  helped  in  it,"  Willy  defended 
himself.  "I  had  only  promised  to  be  silent  and  I 
had  to  keep  my  word." 


THE    SIGN   OF   FLAME.  45 

"You  ought  not  dare  to  keep  silence  to  your 
mother;  she  is  always  an  exception,"  Frau  Regine 
said  decidedly. 

"Yes,  mamma,  Hartmut  probably  thought  so,  too, 
when  it  concerned  his  mother,"  remarked  Willibald, 
and  the  remark  was  so  correct  that  she  could  not 
well  say  anything  against  it;  but  that  angered  her 
the  more. 

"That  is  different — entirely  different,"  she  said 
curtly ;  but  the  young  lord  asked  persistently : 

"Why  is  it  entirely  different?" 

"Boy,  you  will  kill  me  yet  with  your  questions  and 
talking,"  cried  his  mother  angrily.  "That  is  an 
affair  which  you  do  not  and  shall  not  understand. 
It  is  bad  enough  that  Hartmut  has  brought  you  in 
connection  with  it  at  all.  Now  do  you  keep  quiet, 
and  do  not  concern  yourself  further  about  it.  Do 
you  hear?" 

Willy  was  dutifully  silent.  It  was  perhaps  the 
first  time  in  his  life  that  he  had  been  reproved  for 
too  much  talking;  besides,  his  Uncle  Wallmoden, 
who  had  just  returned  from  a  drive,  entered  now. 

"Falkenried  has  already  arrived,  I  hear,"  he  said, 
approaching  his  sister. 

"Yes,"  she  replied.  "He  came  immediately  upon 
receiving  my  letter." 

"And  how  has  he  borne  the  news?" 

"Outwardly  very  calm,  but  I  saw  only  too  well 
how  it  rent  his  heartstrings.  He  is  alone  now  with 
Hartmut,  and  the  storm  will  probably  burst." 

"I  am  sorry ;  but  I  prophesied  this  turn  of  affairs 
when  I  learned  of  Zalika's  return.  He  ought  to 
have  spoken  then  to  Hartmut.  Now  I  fear  he  will 
but  add  a  second  mistake  to  the  first  one  by  trying  to 
accomplish  a  separation  by  force  and  dictating. 


46  THE    SIGN   OF   FLAME. 

This  unfortunate  obstinacy  which  knows  only  'either 
—or' !  It  is  least  of  all  in  the  right  place  here." 

"Yes,  the  meeting  yonder  lasts  too  long  for  me," 
said  Frau  von  Eschenhagen  with  concern.  "I  shall 
go  and  see  how  far  the  two  have  gotten,  whether  it 
offends  the  Major  or  not.  Remain  here,  Herbert ;  I 
shall  return  directly." 

She  left  the  room,  which  Wallmoden  paced  discon- 
solately. His  nephew  sat  alone  at  the  supper  table, 
about  which  nobody  seemed  to  think.  He  did  not 
dare  to  begin  eating  by  himself,  for  a  regular  tur- 
moil reigned  to-day  in  Burgsdorf,  and  the  Frau 
Mamma  was  in  a  very  ungracious  mood.  But  for- 
tunately she  returned  after  a  few  minutes,  and  her 
face  was  beaming  with  satisfaction. 

"The  affair  is  settled  in  the  best  way,"  she  said  in 
her  short  and  decided  tone.  "He  has  the  boy  in  his 
embrace.  Hartmut  is  hanging  upon  his  father's 
neck,  and  the  rest  will  arrange  itself  easily  now. 
God  be  praised !  And  now  you  may  eat  your  sup- 
per, Willy.  The  confusion  which  has  disturbed  our 
whole  household  has  come  to  an  end." 

Willy  did  not  allow  himself  to  be  told  twice,  but 
made  brisk  use  of  the  coveted  permission.  But 
.Wallmoden  shook  his  head  and  muttered :  "If  it 
were  only  truly  at  an  end !" 


CHAPTER  VI. 

NEITHER  Falkenried  nor  his  son  had  noticed  that 
the  door  had  been  quietly  opened  and  closed  again. 
Hartmut  still  clung  to  his  father's  neck.  He  seemed 
to  have  lost  in  a  moment  all  awe  and  reserve,  and 
was  overwhelmingly  lovable  in  his  new-found, 
stormy  caresses,  the  charm  of  which  the  Major  had 
rightly  feared  would  disarm  him.  He  spoke  but  lit- 
tle, but  again  and  again  he  pressed  his  lips  upon  the 
brow  of  his  son,  looking  steadily  into  the  beautiful 
face,  full  of  life,  which  pressed  so  close  to  his  own. 

Finally  Hartmut  asked  in  a  low  voice :  "And — my 
mother?" 

A  shadow  passed  again  over  Falkenried's  brow, 
but  he  did  not  release  his  son  from  his  arms. 

"Your  mother  will  leave  Germany  as  soon  as  she 
is  convinced  that  she  must  in  the  future,  as  in  the 
past,  stay  away  from  you,"  he  said,  this  time  with- 
out harshness,  but  with  decision.  "You  may  write 
to  her.  I  will  allow  a  correspondence  with  certain 
restrictions,  but  I  cannot — I  dare  not  permit  a  per- 
sonal intercourse." 

"Father,  think " 

"I  cannot,  Hartmut ;  it  is  impossible." 

"Do  you  hate  her,  then,  so  very  much  ?"  asked  the 
youth  reproachfully.  "You  wished  the  separation — 
not  my  mother — I  know  it  from  herself." 

Falkenried's  lips  quivered.  He  was  about  to 
speak  the  bitter  words  and  tell  his  son  that  the  sepa- 

47 


48  THE    SIGN   OF   FLAME. 

ration  had  been  at  the  command  of  honor;  but  he 
looked  again  in  those  dark,  inquiring  eyes,  and  the 
words  died  unspoken.  He  could  not  accuse  the 
mother  to  the  son. 

"Let  that  question  rest,"  he  replied  gloomily;  "I 
cannot  answer  it  to  you.  Perhaps  you  will  learn  my 
reasons  later  and  will  understand  them.  I  cannot 
spare  you  the  hard  choice  now.  You  can  belong 
only  to  one — the  other  you  must  shun.  Accept  it  as 
a  doom." 

Hartmut  bowed  his  head ;  he  might  have  felt  that 
nothing  further  could  be  gained.  That  the  meet- 
ings with  his  mother  had  to  end  when  he  returned  to 
the  strict  discipline  of  the  school,  he  knew ;  but  now 
a  correspondence  was  permitted,  which  was  more 
than  he  had  dared  to  hope  for. 

"Then  I  will  tell  mamma  so,"  he  said  in  a  crest- 
fallen way.  "Now,  since  you  know  everything,  I 
may  see  her  openly,  may  I  not?" 

The  Major  started;  he  had  not  considered  this 
possibility. 

"When  were  you  to  see  her  again  ?"  he  asked. 

"To-day,  at  this  hour,  at  the  Burgsdorf  pond. 
She  is  surely  awaiting  me  there  now." 

Falkenried  seemed  to  battle  with  himself.  A 
warning  voice  arose  in  him  not  to  allow  this  leave- 
taking,  yet  he  felt  that  to  refuse  would  be  cruel. 

"Will  you  be  back  in  two  hours  ?"  he  asked  finally. 

"Certainly,  father;  even  earlier  if  you  desire  it." 

"Go,  then,"  said  the  Major,  with  a  deep  breath. 
One  could  hear  how  reluctant  was  the  permission 
which  his  sense  of  duty  forced  from  him.  "We 
shall  drive  home  as  soon  as  you  return.  Your  vaca- 
tion ends  shortly,  anyway." 

Hartmut,  who  was  just  about  to  leave,  came  to  a 


THE    SIGN   OF   FLAME.  49 

standstill.  The  words  recalled  to  him  what  he  had 
entirely  forgotten  in  the  last  half  hour :  the  discipline 
and  severity  of  the  service  which  was  awaiting  him. 
Heretofore  he  had  not  dared  to  betray  his  aversion  to 
it  openly,  but  this  hour  which  banished  the  awe  of 
his  father  broke  also  the  seal  from  his  lips.  Obey- 
ing a  sudden  impulse,  he  turned  and  put  his  arms 
again  around  the  neck  of  his  father. 

"I  have  a  request,"  he  whispered,  "a  great,  great 
request  which  you  must  grant  me ;  and  I  know  you 
will  do  it  as  a  proof  that  you  love  me." 

A  furrow  appeared  between  the  Major's  eyebrows 
as  he  asked  with  slight  reproach:  "Do  you  require 
proofs  of  it  ?  Well,  let's  hear  it." 

Hartmut  nestled  still  more  closely  to  him;  his 
voice  had  again  that  sweet,  coaxing  sound  which 
made  his  prayers  so  irresistible,  and  the  dark  eyes 
implored  intensely,  beseechingly. 

"Do  not  let  me  become  a  soldier,  father.  I  do  not 
love  the  calling  for  which  you  have  decided  me.  I 
shall  never  learn  to  love  it.  If  I  have  bowed  until 
now  to  your  will,  it  has  been  with  aversion,  with 
secret  grumbling,  and  I  have  been  unbearably  un- 
happy, only  I  did  not  dare  to  confess  it  to  you." 

The  furrow  on  Falkenried's  brow  sank  deeper, 
and  he  released  his  son  slowly  from  his  embrace. 

"That  means,  in  other  words,  that  you  do  not  like 
to  obey,"  he  said  harshly,  "and  just  that  is  more  im- 
portant to  you  than  to  any  one  else." 

"But  I  cannot  bear  any  compulsion,"  Hartmut 
burst  forth  passionately,  "and  the  military  service  is 
nothing  but  duty  and  fetters.  To  obey  always  and 
eternally — never  to  have  a  will  of  your  own — to  bow 
day  after  day  to  an  iron  discipline  and  strict,  cold 
forms  by  which  every  individual  movement  is  sup- 


50  THE    SIGN   OF   FLAME. 

pressed.  I  cannot  bear  it  any  longer.  Everything  in 
me  demands  freedom  for  light  and  life.  Let  me  go, 
father ;  do  not  keep  me  any  longer  in  these  bonds.  I 
die — I  suffocate  under  them." 

To  a  man,  who  was  heart  and  soul  a  soldier,  he 
could  not  have  done  his  cause  greater  harm  than  by 
these  imprudent  words.  It  sounded  like  a  stormy, 
glowing  prayer.  His  arm  yet  lay  around  his  father's 
neck,  but  Falkenried  now  straightened  himself  sud- 
denly and  pushed  him  back. 

"I  should  consider  the  service  an  honor  and  no 
fetter,"  he  said  cuttingly.  "It  is  sad  that  I  should 
have  to  recall  that  to  my  son's  mind.  Freedom — 
light — life !  You  think  perhaps  that  one  can  throw 
himself  at  seventeen  years  into  life  and  grasp  all  its 
treasures.  The  longed-for  freedom  for  you  would 
be  only  recklessness,  ruin,  destruction." 

"And  what  if  it  should  be  so !"  cried  Hartmut,  to- 
tally beside  himself.  "Better  go  to  ruin  in  freedom 
than  to  live  in  this  depression.  To  me  it  is  a  chain — 
a  fetter — slavery- " 

"Be  silent !  not  a  word  further,"  commanded  Falk- 
enried so  threateningly  that  the  youth  grew  silent 
despite  his  awful  excitement.  "You  have  no  choice, 
and  take  care  that  you  do  not  forget  your  duty.  You 
must  become  an  officer  and  fulfill  your  duty  com- 
pletely as  does  every  one  of  your  comrades.  When 
you  are  of  age,  I  no  longer  have  any  power  to  hinder 
you.  You  may  then  resign,  even  if  it  give  me  my 
deathblow  to  see  my  only  son  flee  the  service." 

"Father,  do  you  consider  me  a  coward?"  Hart- 
mut burst  forth.  "I  could  stand  a  war — I  could 
fight " 

"You  would  fight  foolhardily  and  rush  blindly 
into  every  danger;  and  with  this  obstinacy  which 


THE   StGtt   OF   FLAME.  51 

knows  no  discipline  you  would  destroy  yourself  and 
your  men.  I  know  this  wild,  boundless  desire  for 
freedom  and  life  to  which  no  barrier,  no  duty  is 
sacred.  I  know  from  whom  you  have  inherited  it 
and  where  it  will  finally  lead;  therefore  I  keep  you 
securely  in  the  'fetters,'  no  matter  whether  you  hate 
it  or  not.  You  shall  learn  to  obey  and  to  bow  your 
will  while  yet  there  is  time;  and  you  shall  learn  it. 
I  pledge  my  word  to  that." 

Again  the  old,  inflexible  harshness  sounded  in  his 
voice ;  every  line  of  tenderness,  of  softness,  had  dis- 
appeared, and  Hartmut  knew  his  father  too  well  to 
continue  supplication  or  defiance.  He  did  not  an- 
swer a  syllable,  but  his  eyes  glowed  again  with  that 
demoniac  spark  which  robbed  him  of  all  his  beauty ; 
and  around  his  lips,  which  were  pressed  closely  to- 
gether, there  settled  a  strange,  bad  expression  as  he 
now  turned  to  go. 

The  Major's  eyes  followed  him.  Again  the  warn- 
ing voice  came  to  him  like  a  presentiment  of  evil,  and 
he  called  his  son  back. 

"Hartmut,  you  are  sure  to  be  back  in  time?  You 
give  me  your  word?" 

"Yes,  father."  The  answer  sounded  grim,  but 
firm. 

"Very  well.  I  shall  trust  you  as  a  man.  I  let 
you  go  in  peace  with  this  promise  which  you  have 
given  me.  Be  punctual." 

Hartmut  had  been  gone  but  a  few  moments  when 
Wallmoden  entered. 

"Are  you  alone?"  he  asked,  somewhat  surprised. 
"I  did  not  wish  to  disturb  you,  but  I  saw  Hartmut 
hasten  through  the  garden  just  now.  Where  was 
he  going  so  late?" 

"To  his  mother,  to  take  leave  of  her." 


52  THE    SIGN    OF    FLAME. 

The  Secretary  started  at  this  news.  "With  your 
consent  ?"  he  asked  quickly. 

"Certainly,  I  have  permitted  him  to  go." 

"How  imprudent !  I  should  think  that  you  knew 
now  how  Zalika  manages  to  get  her  own  way,  and 
yet  you  leave  your  son  to  her  mercy." 

"For  only  half  an  hour  to  say  farewell.  I  could 
not  refuse  that.  What  do  you  fear?  Surely  no 
force.  Hartmut  is  no  longer  a  child  to  be  borne  into 
a  carriage  and  carried  off  in  spite  of  his  resistance." 

"But  if  he  should  not  refuse  a  flight?" 

"I  have  his  word  that  he  will  return  in  two  hours," 
said  the  Major  with  emphasis. 

"The  word  of  a  seventeen-year-old  lad !" 

"Who  has  been  raised  a  soldier  and  who  knows 
the  importance  of  a  word  of  honor.  That  gives  me 
no  care ;  my  fear  lies  in  another  direction." 

"Regine  told  me  that  you  were  reconciled,"  re- 
marked Wallmoden,  with  a  glance  upon  the  still 
clouded  brow  of  his  friend. 

"For  a  few  moments  only;  after  that  I  had  to  be- 
come again  the  firm,  severe  father.  This  hour  has 
showed  me  how  hard  the  task  is  to  bend,  to  educate 
this  roving  nature.  Nevertheless  I  shall  conquer 
him." 

The  Secretary  approached  the  window  and  looked 
out  in  the  garden. 

"It  is  twilight  already,  and  the  Burgsdorf  pond  is 
half  an  hour's  distance,"  he  said,  half  aloud.  "You 
ought  to  have  allowed  the  rendezvous  only  in  your 
presence,  if  it  had  to  take  place." 

"And  see  Zalika  again?  Impossible!  I  could 
not  and  would  not  do  that." 

"But  if  the  leave-taking  end  differently  from  what 
you  expect — if  Hartmut  does  not  return  ?" 


THE    SIGN   OF   FLAME.  53 

"Then  he  would  be  a  scoundrel  to  break  his 
word!"  burst  out  Falkenried;  "a  deserter,  for  he 
carries  the  sword  already  at  his  side.  Do  not  offend 
me  with  such  thoughts,  Herbert;  it  is  my  son  of 
whom  you  speak." 

"He  is  also  Zalika's  son ;  but  do  not  let  us  quarrel 
about  that  now.  They  await  you  in  the  dining 
room.  And  you  will  really  leave  us  to-day  ?" 

"Yes,  in  two  hours,"  the  Major  said,  calmly  and 
firmly.  "Hartmut  will  have  returned  by  that  time. 
My  word  stands  for  that." 


CHAPTER  VII. 

THE  gray  shadows  of  twilight  were  gathering  in 
forest  and  field,  becoming  closer  and  denser  with 
every  moment.  The  short,  foggy  autumn  day  drew 
near  its  close.  Through  the  heavy-clouded  sky  the 
night  lowered  sooner  than  usual. 

A  female  figure  paced  impatiently  and  restlessly 
up  and  down  the  bank  of  the  Burgsdorf  pond.  She 
had  drawn  the  dark  cloak  tightly  around  her  shoul- 
ders, but  was  unmindful  of  her  shivering,  caused  by 
the  cold  evening  air.  Her  whole  manner  was  fever- 
ish expectation  and  intense  listening  for  the  sound 
of  a  step  which  could  not  as  yet  be  heard. 

Zalika  had  arranged  the  meetings  with  her  son  for 
a  later  hour,  when  it  was  desolate  and  dim  in  the 
forest,  since  the  day  Willibald  had  surprised  them 
and  had  to  be  admitted  into  the  secret.  They  had 
parted,  however,  before  dark,  so  that  Hartmut's  late 
return  should  not  cause  suspicion  at  Burgsdorf.  He 
had  always  been  punctual,  but  now  his  mother  had 
waited  in  vain  for  an  hour. 

Did  a  trifle  detain  him,  or  was  the  secret  betrayed  ? 
One  had  to  expect  that,  since  a  third  party  knew  it. 

Deathlike  silence  reigned  in  the  forest;  the  dry 
leaves  alone  rustled  beneath  the  hem  of  the  gown  of 
the  restlessly  moving  woman. 

Night  shades  already  lingered  under  the  tree-tops ; 
a  cloud  of  mist  floated  over  the  pond  where  it  was 
lighter  and  more  open;  and  over  there  where  the 

64 


THE   SIGN   OF   FLAME.  55 

water  was  bordered  by  a  marsh,  whitish-gray  veils 
of  mist  arose  yet  more  thickly.  The  wind  blew 
damp  and  cold  from  over  there,  like  the  air  of  a 
vault.  A  light  footstep  finally  sounded  at  a  dis- 
tance, coming  nearer  in  the  direction  of  the  pond 
with  flying  haste.  Now  a  slender  figure  appeared, 
scarcely  recognizable  in  the  gathering  dusk. 
Zalika  flew  toward  him,  and  in  the  next  moment  her 
son  was  in  her  arms. 

"What  has  happened?"  she  demanded,  amidst 
the  usual  stormy  caresses.  "Why  do  you  come  so 
late?  I  had  given  up  in  despair  seeing  you  to-day. 
What  kept  you  back?" 

"I  could  not  come  any  sooner,"  panted  Hart- 
mut,  still  breathless  from  his  rapid  run.  "I  come 
from  my  father." 

Zalika  started. 

"From  your  father?     Then  he  knows " 

"Everything." 

"So  he  is  at  Burgsdorf?  Since  when?  Who 
notified  him? 

The  young  man,  with  fluttering  breath,  reported 
what  had  happened,  but  he  had  not  finished  when 
the  bitter  laugh  of  his  mother  interrupted  him. 

"Naturally  they  are  all  in  the  plot  when  it  con- 
cerns the  tearing  of  my  child  from  me.  And  your 
father,  he  has  probably  threatened  and  punished 
and  made  you  suffer  for  the  heavy  crime  of  having 
been  in  the  arms  of  your  mother?" 

Hartmut  shook  his  head. 

The  remembrance  of  that  moment  when  his 
father  drew  him  to  his  breast  stood  firm,  in  spite 
of  the  bitterness  with  which  that  scene  had 
ended. 

"No,"  he  said  in  a  low  voice;  "but  he  com- 


56  THE    SIGN   OF    FLAME. 

manded  me  not  to  see  you  again,  and  requested  ir- 
revocable separation  from  you." 

"And  yet  you  are  here?     Oh,  I  knew  it!" 

The  exclamation  was  full  of  joyous  victory. 

"Do  not  triumph  too  soon,  mamma,"  said  the 
youth  bitterly.  "I  came  only  to  say  farewell." 

"Hartmut!" 

"Father  knows  it.  He  allowed  me  this  meet- 
ing, and  then " 

"Then  he  will  grasp  you  again,  and  you  will  be 
lost  to  me  forever,  is  it  not  so?" 

Hartmut  did  not  answer;  he  folded  his  mother 
in  his  arms,  and  a  wild,  passionate  sob,  which  had 
in  it  as  much  of  anger  as  pain,  escaped  his  breast. 

It  had  now  grown  quite  dark;  the  night  had 
commenced;  a  cold,  gloomy  autumn  night,  with- 
out moon  or  star  shining,  but  over  there  upon  the 
marsh  where  lately  the  veils  of  mist  floated,  some- 
thing now  shot  up  with  a  bluish  light,  glimmering 
dimly  in  the  fog,  but  growing  brighter  and  clearer 
like  a  flame;  now  appearing,  now  disappearing,  and 
with  it  a  second  and  a  third.  The  will-o'-the-wisp 
had  commenced  its  ghostly,  uncanny  play. 

"You  weep,"  cried  Zalika,  pressing  her  son  closely 
to  her;  "but  I  have  seen  it  coming  long  ago,  and  if 
your  Eschenhagen  had  not  betrayed  us,  the  day 
you  had  to  return  to  your  father  would  have 
brought  your  forced  choice  between  separation  or 
— decision." 

"What  decision?  What  do  you  mean?"  asked 
Hartmut,  perplexed. 

Zalika  bent  over  him,  and,  although  they  were 
alone,  her  voice  sank  to  a  whisper. 

"Will  you  bow  feebly  and  defenselessly  to  a 
tyranny  which  tears  asunder  the  sacred  bond  b$- 


THE    SIGN   OF   FLAME.  57 

tween  mother  and  child,  and  which  stamps  under 
foot  our  rights  as  well  as  our  love?  If  you  can  do 
that,  you  are  not  my  son ;  you  have  inherited  nothing 
of  the  blood  that  flows  in  my  veins.  He  sent  you  to 
bid  me  farewell,  and  you  accept  it  patiently  as  a  last 
favor.  Have  you  really  come  to  take  leave  of  me, 
perhaps  for  years  ?  Actually,  have  you  ?" 

"I  have  to,"  interrupted  the  youth  despairingly. 
"You  know  father  and  his  iron  will.  Is  there  any 
possibility  of  anything  else?" 

"If  you  return  to  him,  no.     But  who  forces  you?" 

"Mamma,  for  God's  sake!"  shrieked  Hartmut, 
terrified.  But  the  encircling  arms  did  not  release 
him,  and  the  hot,  passionate  whisper  again  reached 
his  ear : 

"What  frightens  you  so  at  the  thought?  You 
will  only  go  with  your  mother,  who  loves  you  devot- 
edly, and  who  will  henceforth  live  for  you  alone. 
You  have  told  me  repeatedly  that  you  hate  the  voca- 
tion which  is  forced  upon  you,  that  you  languish 
with  longing  for  freedom.  There  is  no  choice  there 
for  you ;  when  you  return  your  father  will  keep  you 
irrevocably  in  the  fetters.  If  he  knew  that  you 
would  die  of  them,  he  would  not  let  you  free." 

She  had  no  need  to  tell  that  to  her  son ;  he  knew 
it  better  than  she  did.  Only  an  hour  ago  he  had 
seen  the  full  inflexibility  of  his  father,  his  hard  "You 
shall  learn  to  obey  and  bow  your  will." 

His  voice  was  almost  smothered  in  bitterness  as 
he  answered :  "Nevertheless,  I  must  return.  I  have 
given  my  word  to  be  back  at  Burgsdorf  in  two 
hours." 

"Really,"  said  Zalika,  sharply  and  sarcastically; 
"I  thought  so.  Usually  you  are  nothing  but  a  boy, 
whose  every  step  is  prescribed ;  whose  every  moment 


58  THE   SIGN"   OF   FLAME. 

counted  out;  who  ought  not  even  to  have  his  own 
thoughts ;  but  as  soon  as  the  retaining  of  you  is  con- 
cerned, you  are  given  the  independence  of  a  man. 
Very  well ;  now  show  that  you  are  not  only  grown  in 
words,  but  that  you  can  also  act  like  a  man.  A 
forced  promise  has  no  value.  Tear  asunder  this  in- 
vincible chain  with  which  they  want  to  bind  you  and 
make  yourself  free." 

"No — no,"  murmured  Hartmut,  with  a  renewed 
attempt  to  free  himself.  But  he  did  not  succeed. 
He  only  turned  his  face  and  looked  with  fixed  eyes 
out  into  the  night,  into  the  desolate,  silent  forest 
darkness  and  over  yonder  where  the  will-o'-the-wisp 
still  carried  on  its  ghostly  dance. 

Those  quivering,  tremulous  flames  appeared  now 
everywhere;  seeming  to  seek  and  flee  from  each 
other,  they  floated  over  the  ground,  disappearing  or 
dissolving  in  the  ocean  of  fog,  only  to  reappear 
again  and  again.  There  was  something  ghastly  yet 
fascinating  in  this  spectre-like  play;  the  demoniac 
charm  of  the  depths  which  that  treacherous  mire 
concealed. 

"Come  with  me,  my  Hartmut,"  implored  Zalika, 
now  in  those  sweet,  coaxing  tones  which  were  so 
effectively  at  hers  as  well  as  at  her  son's  command. 
"I  have  foreseen  everything  and  prepared  for  it.  I 
knew  that  a  day  like  this  had  to  come.  My  carriage 
awaits  me  half  an  hour's  distance  from  here.  It 
will  take  us  to  the  next  station,  and  before  anybody 
at  Burgsdorf  thinks  you  will  not  return,  the  train 
will  have  carried  us  into  the  far  country.  There  are 
freedom,  light  and  happiness.  I  will  lead  you  out 
into  the  great  distant  world,  and  after  you  know 
that,  you  will  breathe  with  relief  and  shout  like  a  re- 
deemed man.  I  myself  know  how  one  released 


THE    SIGN   OF   FLAME.  59 

feels.  I  too  have  borne  that  chain  which  I  riveted 
myself  in  foolish  error,  but  I  would  have  broken  it 
in  the  first  year  but  for  you.  Oh,  it  is  sweet,  this 
freedom.  You  will  feel  it,  too/' 

She  knew  only  too  well  how  to  succeed.  Free- 
dom, life,  light!  These  words  found  a  thousand- 
fold echo  in  the  heart  of  the  young  man,  whose  pas- 
sionate thirst  for  freedom  had  been  so  far  sup- 
pressed. This  promised  life  shone  with  a  magic 
splendor  like  a  beacon  before  him.  He  needed  only 
to  stretch  forth  his  hand  and  it  was  his. 

"My  promise,"  he  murmured  with  a  last  attempt 
to  gather  strength.  ''Father  will  look  at  me  with 
contempt  if " 

"If  you  have  reached  a  great,  proud  future?" 
Zalika  interrupted  him  passionately.  "Then  you 
can  go  before  him  and  ask  if  he  dares  consider  you 
with  contempt.  He  would  keep  you  upon  the 
ground  while  you  have  wings  which  will  carry  you 
high  up.  He  does  not  understand  a  nature  like 
yours;  he  will  never  learn  to  understand  it.  Will 
you  languish  and  go  to  ruin  for  only  a  word's  sake  ? 
Go  with  me,  my  Hartmut — with  me,  to  whom  you 
are  all  in  all — out  into  freedom." 

She  drew  him  along,  slowly  but  irresistibly.  He 
still  resisted,  but  did  not  tear  himself  away;  and 
amidst  the  prayers  and  caresses  of  his  mother  this 
resistance  slowly  gave  way — he  followed. 

A  few  moments  later  the  pond  lay  wholly  de- 
serted; mother  and  son  had  disappeared;  the  sound 
of  their  steps  died  away.  Night  and  silence  brooded 
alone.  Only  over  yonder  in  the  fog  of  the  marsh 
fluttered  that  noiseless  spectral  life.  It  floated  and 
vanished,  rose  and  sank  again  in  restless  play — the 
mysterious  sign  of  flame. 


PART  II. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

THE  warm,  golden  light  of  a  clear  September  day 
lay  over  the  green  ocean  of  forest,  which  stretched  as 
far  as  the  eye  could  reach.  These  immense  forests 
had  covered  this  part  of  Southern  Germany  for 
countless  years ;  trees  one  hundred  years  old  were  no 
rarity  among  them.  The  whole  bore  the  character 
of  a  mountainous  forest,  for  hills  and  dales  suc- 
ceeded one  another. 

While  the  railroads  spun  their  web  all  around  the 
country,  drawing  one  place  after  another  within 
their  grasp,  this  "Wald,"  as  these  miles  and  miles  of 
wooded  land  were  briefly  called  by  the  people,  lay 
still  and  deserted,  like  a  green  island,  almost  un- 
touched by  the  life  and  strife  around. 

Here  and  there  a  village  rose  from  the  forest 
green,  or  an  old  castle,  almost  in  ruins,  gray  and 
dilapidated.  There  was  one  exception  to  it,  in  a 
powerful,  old,  gray  edifice  which  stood  upon  a  height 
and  overlooked  the  whole  vicinity.  This  was 
"Furstenstein,"  once  the  hunting  lodge  of  the  sov- 
ereign, but  at  present  the  habitation  of  the  Chief  of 
all  the  foresters. 

The  castle  dated  from  the  beginning  of  the  last 
century  and  had  been  built  with  all  the  waste  of 

60 


THE    SIGN   OF   FLAME.  61 

space  of  that  epoch  when  the  hunting  lodge  of  the 
Prince  had  to  accommodate  for  weeks  the  whole 
court  suite. 

Furstenstein  was  only  partly  visible  at  a  distance, 
for  the  forest  covered  all  the  castle  mount,  the  gray 
walls,  the  steeples  and  bow  windows  lifting  them- 
selves from  among  the  crown  of  green  firs.  The 
size  of  the  old  structure  was  only  apparent  when  one 
stood  before  the  entrance  portal,  for  many  additions 
belonging  to  later  times  were  attached  to  it.  It  was 
to  be  understood  that  decay  here  was  carefully  kept 
back,  for  the  numerous  rooms  of  the  upper  floors 
were  kept  in  readiness  for  the  commands  of  the 
Prince,  who  came  here  occasionally  in  the  fall. 

The  similarly  extensive  lower  floor  was  given  to 
the  chief  of  the  forest  department,  Herr  von  Scho- 
nan,  who  had  lived  here  for  years,  and  who  knew 
how  to  make  the  loneliness  agreeable  by  keeping  a 
very  hospitable  house  and  by  frequent  sociable  visit- 
ings  in  the  neighborhood. 

He  was  entertaining  guests  at  present.  His  sis- 
ter-in-law, Frau  Regine  von  Eschenhagen,  had  ar- 
rived yesterday,  and  her  son  was  also  expected. 

The  two  daughters  of  the  house  of  Wallmoden 
had  made  very  desirable  matches,  the  elder  one 
marrying  the  lord  of  the  Burgsdorf  estates  and  the 
younger  one  Herr  von  Schonan,  who  belonged  to  a 
wealthy  South  German  family.  In  spite  of  the  dis- 
tance separating  them,  the  sisters  and  their  families 
had  remained  in  intimate  association,  and  even  after 
the  death  of  the  younger  one,  which  had  occurred 
several  years  previously,  these  family  connections 
were  continued. 

This  friendship,  however,  had  a  quality  of  its 
own,  for  Herr  von  Schonan  was  always  on  the  war- 


162  THE    SIGN   OF   FLAME. 

path  with  his  sister-in-law.  As  both  natures  were 
terse  and  inconsiderate  they  came  to  a  tussle  at 
every  opportunity,  made  up  regularly,  deciding  to 
keep  the  peace  in  future,  but  the  promise  was  broken 
just  as  regularly.  A  new  difference  of  opinion 
would  come  up  in  the  next  hour,  the  dispute  would 
be  carried  on  with  fullest  passion,  until  it  again 
raged  with  undiminished  power. 

Just  at  present  a  very  unusual  harmony  seemed  to 
prevail  between  the  two,  who  sat  upon  the  terrace 
before  the  entrance  room. 

The  Chief  Forester,  who  in  spite  of  his  advanced 
years,  was  still  a  very  stately  man,  with  strong,  sun- 
burned features  and  slightly  gray  but  thick  hair  and 
beard,  was  leaning  comfortably  back  in  his  chair, 
listening  to  his  sister-in-law,  who,  as  usual,  was 
monopolizing  the  conversation. 

Frau  Regine  was  now  near  her  fiftieth  year,  but 
had  scarcely  changed  in  the  last  decade.  The  years 
could  not  make  much  impression  upon  her  strong 
physique;  a  little  wrinkle  perhaps  here  and  there  in 
the  face,  a  few  silver  threads  mingled  with  the  dark 
hair;  but  the  gray  eyes  had  lost  none  of  their  keen 
clearness;  the  voice  was  as  full  and  steady,  the  car- 
riage just  as  energetic  as  formerly.  It  was  very  evi- 
dent that  the  lady  bore  the  sceptre  in  her  domain 
now  as  before. 

"As  I  said,  Willy  will  be  here  in  a  week,"  she  was 
saying.  "He  had  not  quite  finished  with  his  har- 
vest work,  but  it  will  soon  end,  and  then  he  will  be 
ready  for  the  betrothal.  The  affair  has  long  been 
settled  between  us,  but  I  decidedly  advocated  the 
delay,  for  a  young  girl  of  sixteen  or  seventeen  years 
has  all  sorts  of  childish  tricks  still  in  her  head,  and 
cannot  preside  well  over  an  orderly  household.  But 


THE    SIGN    OF    FLAME.  63 

Antonie  is  now  twenty  years  old  and  Willy  twenty- 
seven  ;  this  suits  exactly.  You  are  satisfied,  are  you 
not,  brother,  that  we  now  arrange  the  betrothal  of 
our  children?" 

''Quite  satisfied,"  affirmed  the  Chief  Forester; 
"and  we  are  of  the  same  opinion  in  all  else  concern- 
ing it.  Half  of  my  money  will  fall  to  my  son  after 
my  death,  the  other  half  to  my  daughter,  and  you 
can  also  be  at  rest  about  the  dower  which  I  have  set 
apart  for  the  wedding." 

"Yes,  you  have  not  been  stingy  about  it.  As  to 
Willy,  you  know  he  has  had  possession  of  the  Burgs- 
dorf  estates  for  three  years.  The  money,  according 
to  the  will,  remains  in  my  hands.  After  my  death  it 
will,  of  course,  fall  to  him.  The  young  couple  will 
not  be  in  need.  Sufficient  care  has  been  taken  for 
that ;  therefore  all  is  decided." 

"Yes,  decided.  We  will  celebrate  the  betrothal 
now  and  the  wedding  in  the  spring." 

The  thus  far  clear  sky  was  darkened  now  by  the 
first  cloud.  Frau  von  Eschenhagen  shook  her  head 
and  said  dictatorially : 

"That  will  not  do,  the  wedding  must  occur  in  the 
winter,  for  Willy  will  not  have  time  to  marry  in  the 
spring." 

"Nonsense!  One  always  has  time  to  marry,"  de- 
clared Schonan,  just  as  dictatorially. 

"Not  in  the  country,"  persisted  Frau  Regine; 
"there  the  motto  is,  first  work  and  then  pleasure.  It 
has  always  been  so  with  us,  and  Willy  has  learned 
it,  too." 

"But  I  emphatically  beg  that  he  will  make  an  ex- 
ception in  the  case  of  his  young  wife,  otherwise  the 
deuce  may  take  him !"  cried  the  Chief  angrily.  "Be- 
s,ides,  you  know  my  conditions,  Regine.  My  girl 


64  THE    SIGN   OF   FLAME. 

has  not  seen  your  son  for  two  years ;  if  he  does  not 
please  her,  she  shall  have  a  free  choice." 

He  had  attacked  his  sister-in-law  in  a  most  sensi- 
tive spot.  She  straightened  herself  to  her  fullest 
height  in  her  offended  motherly  pride. 

"My  dear  Moritz,  I  credit  your  daughter  with 
some  taste  at  least.  Besides,  I  believe  in  the  old 
custom  of  parents  choosing  for  their  children.  It 
was  so  in  our  time  and  we  have  fared  well  with  it. 
What  do  young  people  know  of  such  important 
things?  But  you  have  always  allowed  your  chil- 
dren their  own  way  too  much.  One  can  see  there  is 
no  mother  in  the  house." 

"Is  that  my  fault?"  demanded  Schonan,  angrily. 
"Should  I  have  given  them  a  stepmother?  In  fact, 
I  wished  to  once,  but  you  would  not  consent  to  it, 
Regine." 

"No,  I  had  enough  of  marriage  with  one  trial/' 
was  the  dry  answer,  which  roused  the  Forester  still 
more.  He  shrugged  his  shoulders  sarcastically. 

"Why,  I  shouldn't  think  that  you  could  possibly 
complain  of  the  late  Eschenhagen.  He  and  all  his 
Burgsdorf  danced  entirely  after  your  piping.  Of 
course,  you  would  not  have  gotten  the  upper  hand 
of  me  so  easily." 

"But  I  should  have  had  it  in  a  month,"  remarked 
Frau  Regine  with  perfect  composure,  "and  I  should 
have  taken  you  under  my  command  first  of  all, 
Moritz." 

"What!  you  tell  me  this  to  my  face?  Shall  we 
try  it,  then?"  shouted  Schonan  in  a  passion. 

"Thank  you,  I  shall  not  marry  a  second  time. 
Do  not  trouble  yourself." 

"I  have  not  the  slightest  idea  of  it.  I  had  enough 
of  it  with  that  one  jilting;  you  do  not  need  to  do  it 


THE    SIGN"   OF   FLAME.  65 

a  second  time";  with  which  the  Chief  Forester 
pushed  back  his  chair  angrily  and  left. 

Frau  von  Eschenhagen  remained  quietly  seated. 
After  awhile  she  called  in  a  quite  friendly  manner : 
"Moritzl" 

"What  is  it?"  sounded  crossly  from  the  other  side 
of  the  terrace. 

"When  is  Herbert  to  come  with  his  young 
wife?" 

"At  twelve  o'clock,"  came  the  curt  reply. 

"I  am  glad  of  that.  I  have  not  seen  him  since  he 
was  sent  to  your  capitol,  but  I  have  always  said  that 
Herbert  was  the  pride  of  our  family,  whom  one 
could  parade  anywhere.  He  is  now  Prussian  Am- 
bassador to  His  Excellency  at  your  court." 

"And  a  young  husband  of  fifty-six  years,  besides," 
said  Herr  von  Schonan  scornfully. 

"Yes,  he  took  his  time  to  marry,  but  then  he  has 
made  a  splendid  match  for  all  that.  It  was  surely 
no  little  thing  for  a  man  of  his  years  to  win  a  wife 
like  Adelaide,  young,  beautiful,  rich " 

"And  of  burgher  descent,"  interrupted  Schonan. 

"Nonsense!  Who  asks  nowadays  after  a  pedi- 
gree when  a  million  is  involved.  Herbert  can  make 
use  of  it.  He  has  had  to  get  along  with  small 
means  all  of  his  life,  and  the  position  of  ambassador 
will  require  more  display  than  the  salary  will  admit 
of.  And  my  brother  does  not  need  to  be  ashamed 
of  his  father-in-law,  for  Stahlberg  is  one  of  our  first 
industry  men  and  a  man  of  honor  from  tip  to  toe, 
besides.  It  was  a  pity  that  he  died  after  the  mar- 
riage of  his  daughter,  for  she  has  surely  made  a 
sensible  choice." 

"Pouf !  You  call  it  a  sensible  choice  when  a  girl 
of  eighteen  takes  a  husband  who  could  be  her 


06  THE    SIGN    OF   FLAME. 

father?"  cried  the  Chief,  drawing  near  in  the  heat 
of  the  controversy.  "Of  course  when  one  becomes 
a  baroness  and  the  wife  of  the  Prussian  Ambassa- 
dor, one  plays  a  big  role  in  society.  This  beautiful, 
cool  Adelaide,  with  her  'sensible'  ideas  which  would 
do  credit  to  a  grandmother,  is  not  congenial  to  me 
at  all.  A  sensible  girl  who  falls  heels  over  head  in 
love  and  declares  to  her  parents,  This  one  or  none  at 
all,'  is  much  more  to  my  taste." 

"Well,  these  are  beautiful  ideas  for  a  father!" 
cried  Frau  von  Eschenhagen  indignantly.  "It  is 
exceedingly  fortunate  that  Toni  has  taken  after  my 
sister  and  not  after  you,  for  otherwise  you  might 
live  to  see  the  like  in  her.  Stahlberg  raised  his 
daughter  better.  I  know  from  himself  that  she 
obeyed  his  wish  when  she  gave  her  hand  to  Herbert, 
and  so,  of  course,  it  is  all  right  and  as  it  should  be. 
But  you  do  not  understand  anything  about  educating 
children." 

"What!  I,  a  man  and  a  father,  not  understand 
the  bringing  up  of  children?"  shouted  Schonan, 
cherry-red  with  vexation. 

The  two  were  in  the  best  possible  condition  to  fly 
at  each  other  again,  but  fortunately  they  were  inter- 
rupted this  time,  for  a  young  girl,  the  daughter  of 
the  house,  stepped  out  on  the  terrace. 

Antonie  von  Schonan  could  not  be  called  exactly 
pretty,  but  she  had  a  stately  figure  like  her  father 
and  a  fresh,  blooming  face,  with  light  brown  eyes. 
Her  brown  hair  was  folded  in  simple  plaits  around 
her  head  and  her  dress,  although  suitable  to  her  posi- 
tion, was  also  plain.  But  Antonie  was  in  those 
years  when  youth  displaced  every  other  charm,  and 
as  she  drew  near,  fresh,  healthy,  stately  in  her  whole 
appearance,  she  was  exactly  the.  daughter-in-law 


THE   SIGK   OF   FLAME.  67 

after  Frau  von  Eschenhagen's  own  heart,  and  she 
nodded  in  a  friendly  way  to  her. 

"Father,  the  carriage  is  returning  from  the  sta- 
tion," said  the  young  lady  in  a  very  deliberate,  some- 
what drawling  tone.  "It  is  already  at  the  foot  of 
the  castle  mount.  Uncle  Wallmoden  will  be  here  in 
fifteen  minutes." 

"What,  tausend!  They  have  driven  like  light- 
ning!" exclaimed  the  Chief  Forester,  whose  face 
brightened  at  the  news.  "Are  the  rooms  all  in 
order?" 

Toni  nodded  as  calmly  as  if  that  were  a  self-evi- 
dent fact.  As  her  father  started  off  to  look  for  the 
carriage  which  was  to  bring  his  guests,  Frau  von 
Eschenhagen  said  with  a  glance  at  the  little  basket 
which  the  3'oung  girl  carried  :  "Well  Toni,  you  have 
been  busy  again?" 

"I  have  been  in  the  kitchen  garden,  dear  aunt. 
The  gardener  insisted  that  there  were  no  pears  ripe 
as  yet,  but  I  looked  for  myself  and  gathered  a  bas- 
ketful." 

"That  is  right,  my  child,"  said  her  future  mother- 
in-law,  highly  satisfied.  "One  must  have  her  eyes 
and  hands  everywhere,  and  never  rely  upon  servants. 
You  will  some  day  be  a  splendid  housekeeper.  But 
now  let  us  go.  We  will  also  meet  the  uncle." 


CHAPTER  IX. 

HERR  VON  SCHONAN  was  already  in  advance  and 
just  descending  the  wide  stone  steps  which  led  to  the 
castle  court,  when  a  man  emerged  from  one  of  the 
side  buildings  and  came  to  a  standstill,  bowing  his 
greeting  respectfully. 

"Hallo,  Stadinger;  what  are  you  doing  at  Fur- 
stenstein?"  cried  the  Chief  Forester.  "Come  up 
here." 

The  man  obeyed  the  command.  He  walked  ac- 
tively with  firm,  erect  carriage,  in  spite  of  his  snow- 
white  hair,  and  a  pair  of  keen,  dark  eyes  shone  from 
his  tanned  face. 

"I  have  been  with  the  Herr  Steward,  Herr  Ober- 
forstmeister,"  he  replied,  "to  ask  if  he  could  not  let 
me  have  a  few  of  his  people  to  help  me,  for  every- 
thing is  topsy-turvy  with  us  at  Rodeck  just  now. 
We  have  not  hands  enough  for  the  work." 

"Ah,  yes;  Prince  Egon  has  returned  from  his 
travels  in  the  Orient;  I  heard  of  it,"  said  Schonan. 
''But  how  does  it  happen  that  he  comes  to  Rodeck 
this  time,  this  small  forest  nook  which  offers  neither 
room  nor  comforts?" 

"Heaven  alone  knows  that;  one  never  dares  ask 
why  with  our  young  Highness.  The  news  came  one 
morning,  and  the  castle  had  to  be  put  in  order,  good 
or  bad.  I  have  had  pains  and  worry  enough  to  get 
ready  in  two  days." 

"I  believe  that.     Rodeck  has  not  been  inhabited 


THE    SIGN   OF   FLAME.  69 

for  years,  but  now  there  will  be  life  once  more  in  the 
old  walls." 

"But  the  old  walls  will  be  stood  on  their  head  with 
it  all,"  grumbled  the  castle  keeper.  "If  you  only 
knew  how  it  looks  there,  Herr  Oberforstmeister. 
The  whole  hunting  hall  is  packed  full  of  lion  and 
tiger  skins  and  all  manner  of  mounted  animals,  and 
the  live  parrots  and  monkeys  sit  about  in  every  room. 
There  is  such  a  noise  and  making  of  faces  that  one 
cannot  hear  a  word  at  times ;  and  now  His  Highness 
has  announced  to  me,  besides,  that  a  whole  herd  of 
elephants  and  a  large  sea  serpent  are  on  their  way 
here.  I  think  apoplexy  will  overtake  me." 

"What  is  on  the  way  here?"  demanded  Schonan, 
who  could  not  believe  his  ears. 

"A  sea  serpent  and  a  dozen  elephants.  I  have 
remonstrated  with  might  and  main.  'Your  High- 
ness,' I  have  said,  'we  cannot  house  any  more  of  the 
beasts,  particularly  not  the  sea  serpent,  for  such  a 
beast  needs  water,  and  we  have  no  pond  at  Rodeck. 
As  to  the  elephants — well,  we  will  just  have  to  tie 
them  to  the  trees  in  the  forest.  If  we  cannot  do 
that,  I  do  not  know  what  to  do/  'Good,'  says  His 
Highness,  'we  will  tie  them  to  the  trees,  it  will  be  a 
picturesque  sight;  and  we  will  send  the  sea  serpent 
to  board  at  Furstenstein.  That  pond  is  large 
enough.'  I  beg  of  you,  Herr  Oberforstmeister,  he 
will  populate  the  whole  neighborhood  with  those 
awful  beasts." 

The  Chief  Forester  laughed  aloud  and  patted  the 
shoulder  of  the  old  man,  who  seemed  to  enjoy  his 
special  favor. 

"But,  Stadinger,  did  you  really  take  that  in  ear- 
nest ?  Don't  you  know  your  Prince  ?  It  seems  that 
he  has  not  become  more  settled  by  his  absence." 


70  THE   SIGN   OF   FLAME. 

"No,  really  not,"  sighed  Stadinger,  "and  what  His 
Highness  does  not  know,  Herr  Rojanow  will  surely 
find  out.  He  makes  it  ten  times  worse.  Oh,  dread- 
ful that  such  a  madcap  should  fall  to  our  lot !" 

"Rojanow?  Who  is  that?"  asked  Schonan,  be- 
coming attentive. 

"Yes,  that  is  what  nobody  knows  exactly,  but  he 
is  everything  with  us  since  His  Highness  cannot 
live  without  him.  He  found  this  friend  somewhere 
back  there  in  the  heathen  lands.  The  friend  him- 
self may  be  half  a  heathen  or  a  Turk;  he  looks  just 
like  it,  with  his  dark  hair  and  his  fiery  eyes,  and  he 
knows  how  to  command  from  the  very  bottom.  He 
sometimes  drives  all  the  servants  helter-skelter  with 
his  orders  and  actions,  as  if  he  was  lord  and  master 
of  Rodeck.  But  he  is  handsome  as  a  picture — al- 
most more  so  than  our  Prince,  who  has  given  strict 
orders  that  his  friend  has  to  be  obeyed  like  him- 
self." 

"Probably  some  adventurer  who  takes  advantage 
of  the  Prince.  I  can  imagine  that,"  muttered  Scho- 
nan, continuing  aloud:  "Well,  may  God  help  you, 
Stadinger !  I  must  go  now  to  meet  my  brother-in- 
law.  Do  not  let  any  gray  hairs  grow  on  account  of 
the  sea-serpent.  If  His  Highness  threatens  you 
with  it  again,  just  tell  him  I  would  offer  the  Fur- 
stenstein  pond  with  pleasure,  but  I  must  see  it  alive 
before  me  first." 

He  nodded  laughingly  at  the  old  man,  who  looked 
much  comforted,  and  walked  toward  the  entrance 
portal. 

Frau  von  Eschenhagen  and  her  niece  had  also  ap- 
peared, and  the  carriage  now  came  in  sight  upon 
the  broad  forest  road  of  the  castle  mount,  rolling,  a 
few  minutes  later,  into  the  castle  court. 


THE   SIGN   OF   FLAME.  ?1 

Regine  was  the  first  to  greet  them.  She  shook 
her  brother's  hand  so  heartily  that  he  drew  back 
with  a  slight  shudder.  The  Chief  Forester  remained 
in  the  background;  he  stood  somewhat  in  awe  of 
his  diplomatic  brother-in-law,  whose  sarcasm  he 
secretly  feared;  while  Toni  allowed  neither  her 
uncle,  His  Excellency,  nor  his  beautiful  wife  to  rouse 
her  from  her  composed  deliberation. 

The  years  had  not  passed  Herbert  von  Wall- 
moden  by  as  lightly  as  they  had  his  sister;  he  had 
aged  considerably;  his  hair  had  turned  quite  gray, 
and  the  sarcastic  lines  around  his  mouth  had  become 
more  pronounced;  otherwise  he  was  still  the  cool, 
aristocratic  diplomat — perhaps  a  few  degrees  cooler 
and  more  reticent  than  formerly.  The  superiority 
which  he  had  borne  to  his  surroundings  seemed  to 
have  grown  with  the  high  position  which  he  filled 
at  present. 

The  young  wife  at  his  side  would  probably  have 
been  taken  by  every  stranger  for  his  daughter.  He 
had  truly  shown  good  taste  in  his  choice. 

Adelaide  von  Wallmoden  was,  indeed,  beautiful, 
although  of  that  composed,  serious  beauty  which 
usually  aroused  only  calm  admiration,  but  she  seemed 
equal  in  every  respect  to  the  high  position  in  life 
brought  her  by  this  marriage. 

The  young  wife,  scarcely  nineteen  years  old,  and 
who  had  been  married  but  six  months,  showed  per- 
fect ease  of  manner — an  unexceptional  mastery  of 
all  forms,  as  if  she  had  lived  for  years  beside  her 
elderly  husband. 

To  his  wife  Wallmoden  was  politeness  and  atten- 
tion personified.  He  now  offered  his  arm  to  lead 
her  to  her  room,  returning  in  a  few  minutes  to  join 
his  sister,  who  awaited  him  on  the  terrace. 


72  THE    SIGN   OF   FLAME. 

The  attitude  of  these  two  to  each  other  was  in 
many  respects  a  strange  one.  The  brother  and  sis- 
ter were  of  the  most  pronounced  opposites  in  appear- 
ance as  well  as  character,  and  usually  of  opinion  as 
well ;  but  the  blood  relationship  gave  them,  in  spite 
of  this  difference,  a  feeling  of  closest  union.  This 
was  evident  as  they  sat  together  now  after  the  long 
separation. 

Although  Herbert  was  somewhat  nervous  during 
the  conversation,  for  Regine  did  not  find  it  neces- 
sary to  subdue  her  peculiar  manner,  causing  him 
embarrassment  more  than  once  with  her  inconsid- 
erate questions  and  remarks,  he  had  long  ago  learned 
to  consider  that  as  unavoidable,  and  surrendered 
himself  to  it  now  with  a  sigh. 

At  first  they  spoke  of  the  coming  betrothal  of 
Willibald  and  Toni,  which  had  Wallmoden's  full 
approval.  He  thought  the  match  very  suitable,  and 
besides,  every  one  in  the  family  had  been  long  ac- 
quainted with  it. 

But  now  Frau  von  Eschenhagen  began  an  en- 
tirely different  subject.  "Well,  and  how  do  you  feel 
as  a  husband,  Herbert?"  she  asked.  "You  have  cer- 
tainly taken  your  time  for  it,  but  better  late  than 
never,  and  to  speak  the  truth,  you  have  had  extraor- 
dinarily good  luck  in  spite  of  your  gray  hair." 

The  Ambassador  did  not  seem  very  well  pleased  at 
this  allusion  to  his  age.  He  pressed  his  thin  lips 
together  for  a  moment,  and  then  replied  with  some 
sharpness :  "You  should  really  be  a  little  more  care- 
ful in  your  expressions,  dear  Regine.  I  know  my 
age  very  well,  but  the  position  in  life  which  I  brought 
my  wife  as  a  wedding  gift  should  counteract  the 
difference  of  the  years  somewhat." 

"Well,  I  should  think  the  dowry  she  brought  you 


THE    SIGN    OP   FLAME.  73 

was  not  to  be  slighted,"  remarked  Regine,  quite  un- 
concerned as  to  the  rebuke.  "Have  you  already 
presented  her  at  court?" 

"Yes,  two  weeks  ago,  at  the  Summer  Residenz. 
Mourning  for  my  father-in-law  prevented  it  before. 
We  shall  have  open  house  in  the  winter  as  my  posi- 
tion requires.  I  was  most  pleasantly  surprised  at 
Adelaide's  manner  at  court.  She  moved  upon  the 
strange  ground  with  an  ease  and  composure  which 
were  truly  admirable.  I  saw  there  again  how  happy 
my  choice  was  in  every  respect.  But  I  wish  to  in- 
quire after  several  things  at  home.  First  of  all, 
how  is  Falkenried?" 

"Surely  you  do  not  need  to  ask  me  that?  Are 
you  not  in  regular  correspondence  with  him?" 

"Yes,  but  his  letters  grow  shorter  and  more  mono- 
syllabic. I  wrote  him  at  length  about  my  marriage, 
but  received  only  a  very  laconic  reply.  But  you 
must  see  him  frequently,  since  he  has  been  called  to 
the  position  of  Secretary  of  War.  The  city  is  near." 

"You  are  mistaken  there.  The  Colonel  shows 
himself  very  rarely  at  Burgsdorf,  and  he  is  becom- 
ing more  and  more  reticent  and  unapproachable." 

"I  am  sorry  to  hear  that;  but  he  used  always  to 
make  an  exception  of  you,  and  I  hoped  much  from 
your  influence  since  he  is  back  in  your  vicinity. 
Have  you  not  tried,  then,  to  renew  the  old  inti- 
macy ?" 

"I  did  at  first,  but  finally  had  to  give  it  up,  for 
I  saw  that  it  was  painful  to  him.  Nothing  can  be 
done  there,  Herbert.  Since  that  unfortunate  catas- 
trophe which  both  of  us  lived  through  with  him  he 
has  changed  into  stone.  You  have  seen  him  several 
times  since  then  and  know  the  ruin  that  has  worked 
there." 


74  THE    SIGN   OF    FLAME. 

Wallmoden's  brow  clouded  and  his  voice  was 
harsh  as  he  returned :  "Yes,  that  scoundrel — that 
Hartmut  lies  heavy  upon  his  heart,  but  more  than 
ten  years  have  passed  since  then,  and  I  hoped  that 
Falkenried  would  return  to  sociable  life  in  time." 

"I  have  never  had  that  hope;  that  blow  went  to 
the  root  of  life.  I  shall  never  forget  that  evening  at 
Burgsdorf  while  I  live.  How  we  waited  and  waited 
— first  with  restlessness  and  anxiety,  then  with  dead- 
ly fear.  You  guessed  the  truth  directly,  but  I  would 
not  permit  myself  to  believe  it — and  Falkenried! 
I  can  see  him  yet  as  he  stood  at  the  window,  looking 
fixedly  out  into  the  night — pale  as  a  corpse,  with 
teeth  tightly  clenched,  having  for  every  fear  ex- 
pressed the  one  reply,  'He  will  come — he  must  come. 
I  have  his  word  for  it.'  And  when,  in  spite  of  all, 
Hartmut  did  not  come — when  the  night  wore  on  and 
we  finally  learned  upon  inquiry  at  the  railroad  sta- 
tion that  the  two  had  arrived  there  in  a  carriage  and 
taken  the  express  train — God  in  heaven !  How  the 
man  looked  when  he  turned  to  leave,  so  mute  and 
stiff !  I  made  you  promise  not  to  leave  his  side,  for 
I  believed  that  he  would  blow  his  brains  out." 

"You  judged  him  wrongly,"  said  Wallmoden  de- 
cisively. "A  man  like  Falkenried  considers  it  cow- 
ardice to  lay  hands  on  his  life,  even  if  that  life  has 
become  torture  to  him.  He  stands  up  even  to  a  lost 
post.  Although  what  would  have  happened  if  they 
had  let  him  go  that  time — I  do  not  dare  to  surmise." 

"Yes,  I  knew  that  he  had  asked  for  his  dismissal, 
because  to  serve  after  his  son  had  become  a  deserter 
did  not  accord  with  his  ideas  of  honor.  It  was  the 
step  of  despair." 

"Yes,  truly;  and  it  was  fortunate  that  his  chiefs 
would  not  dispense  with  his  military  genius  and 


THE   SIGN   OF   FLAME.  75 

force.  The  chief  of  the  general's  staff  took  the  af- 
fair in  his  own  hands  and  brought  it  before  the  king. 
They  concluded  finally  to  treat  the  whole  unfortu- 
nate occurrence — at  least  as  far  as  it  could  concern 
the  father — as  the  act  of  a  heedless  boy,  for  which 
a  highly  deserving  officer  could  not  be  held  account- 
able. Falkenried  had  to  take  back  his  request  for 
resignation,  was  transferred  into  a  far-away  garri- 
son, and  the  affair  silenced  as  much  as  was  possible. 
It  is,  indeed,  buried  and  forgotten  now  after  ten 
years  by  all  the  world." 

"It  is  not  forgotten  by  one,"  finished  Regine. 
"My  heart  burns  sometimes  when  I  think  of  what 
Falkenried  was  once,  and  what  he  is  now.  The 
bitter  experience  of  his  marriage  had  made  him 
rather  serious  and  unsocial,  but  occasionally  the  full 
charming  amiability  of  his  manner  would  break 
through,  warm  and  hearty,  from  his  inmost  heart — 
all  that  is  over.  He  knows  now  only  the  iron  sever- 
ity of  duty — a/1  else  is  dead.  Even  the  old  friendly 
relations  have  become  painful  to  him.  One  has  to 
let  him  go  his  own  way." 

She  broke  off  with  a  sigh,  which  betrayed  how 
near  to  her  heart  was  the  friend  of  her  youth,  and 
laying  her  hand  upon  the  arm  of  her  brother,  she 
continued :  "Perhaps  you  are  right,  Herbert,  in 
that  one  chooses  best  and  most  sensibly  in  late  years. 
Yo  do  not  need  to  fear  the  fate  of  Falkenried.  Your 
wife  comes  from  a  good  race.  I  knew  Stahlberg 
well.  He  had  worked  up  to  the  heights  of  life  with 
firmness  and  ability,  and  even  as  a  millionaire  he 
remained  the  upright  man  of  honor  he  had  ever 
been.  Adelaide  is  the  daughter  of  her  father  in 
every  respect.  You  have  chosen  well  and  you 
my  heartfelt  wishes  for  your  happiness," 


CHAPTER  X. 

RODECK,  the  hunting  lodge  belonging  to  the  pos- 
sessions of  the  Prince  of  Adelsberg,  was  about  two 
hours'  distance  from  Furstenstein,  in  the  midst  of 
deepest  forest  loneliness.  The  small  building, 
erected  without  much  taste,  contained  at  the  most 
about  a  dozen  rooms,  whose  old-fashioned  and 
shabby  furniture  had  been  put  in  as  good  order  as 
the  short  notice  of  the  coming  of  the  Prince  per- 
mitted. 

The  little  castle  had  not  been  inhabited  for  years 
and  looked  somewhat  dilapidated,  but  when  one 
emerged  from  the  deep,  dark  forest  into  the  opening, 
and  beheld  at  the  end  of  the  wide  green  sward  the 
old  gray  edifice  with  its  tall,  spiked  roof  and  four 
steeples  at  the  corners,  it  had  truly  something  of  the 
forest  idyl  about  it. 

The  Adelsbergs  had  once  been  a  reigning  family, 
but  a  family  that  had  long  since  lost  its  sovereignty. 
They  had  retained,  however,  the  princely  title,  an 
enormous  fortune,  and  a  very  extensive  property. 
The  once  numerous  family  counted  at  present  but 
few  representatives;  the  main  branch  only  a  single 
one — the  Prince  Egon,  who,  as  lord  of  all  the  family 
estates,  besides  being  closely  related  to  the  reigning 
house  through  his  late  mother,  played  an  important 
role  among  the  nobility  of  the  land. 

The  young  Prince  had  always  been  considered  a 

76 


THE    SIGN    OF   FLAME.  W 

rover,  who  at  times  followed  very  eccentric  notions 
and  bothered  himself  very  little  about  princely  eti- 
quette when  he  wished  to  follow  some  momentary 
whim.  The  old  Prince  had  been  very  strict  with  his 
son,  but  his  death  made  Egon  von  Adelsberg  the 
sole  master  of  his  own  will  very  early  in  life. 

He  had  now  returned  from  a  tour  in  the  Orient 
which  had  kept  him  in  foreign  lands  two  years,  but 
instead  of  occupying  the  princely  palace  in  town,  or 
one  of  his  other  castles  which  were  furnished  with 
every  conceivable  splendor  for  a  summer  or  fall 
visit,  he  took  a  notion  to  go  to  the  old  forest  nook — 
the  little  half-forgotten  Rodeck — which  was  not  pre- 
pared for  the  honor  of  receiving  its  master,  and 
could  offer  but  scant  accommodation. 

Old  Stadinger  was  right:  one  must  never  ask 
Prince  Egon  why.  Everything  depended  entirely 
upon  his  momentary  caprice. 

In  the  morning  of  a  sunny  autumn  day,  two  gen- 
tlemen in  hunting  costume  stood  upon  the  lawn  at 
Rodeck  talking  with  the  castle-keeper,  while  a  light 
open  carriage  stood  upon  the  gravel  road,  ready  for 
departure.  At  a  casual  glance  the  two  young  men 
bore  a  certain  resemblance  to  each  other.  They  had 
tall,  slender  figures,  deeply  tanned  faces,  and  eyes  in 
which  glowed  the  whole  fiery  gayety  and  courage  of 
youth,  but  upon  closer  examination  the  wide  differ- 
ence between  them  was  apparent. 

The  Southern  coloring  of  the  younger  one,  who 
might,  perhaps,  be  about  twenty-four  years  old,  was 
caused,  apparently,  by  a  prolonged  stay  under  a  hot 
sun,  for  the  light,  curly  hair  and  blue  eyes  did  not 
match  it — they  betrayed  the  German.  A  light  beard, 
curly  like  the  hair,  framed  a  handsome,  open  face, 
which,  however,  did  not  follow  any  strict  line  of 


IS  THE   SIGN   OF   FLAME. 

beauty.  The  forehead  was  rather  too  low,  but  there 
was  something  like  bright  sunshine  in  this  face 
which  charmed  and  won  everybody. 

His  companion,  several  years  his  senior,  had 
nothing  of  this  sunny  quality,  although  his  appear- 
ance was  more  imposing.  Slender  like  the  younger 
one,  he  towered  above  him  in  height,  and  his  dark 
complexion  was  not  caused  by  the  sun  alone.  It  was 
of  that  olive  tint  which  allows  a  pale  face  to  still 
look  fresh,  and  the  blue-black  hair  which  fell  in  thick 
waves  over  the  high  brow  made  the  apparent  pale- 
ness more  noticeable.  The  face  was  beautiful,  with 
its  noble,  proud  lines  so  firmly  and  energetically 
pronounced,  but  upon  it  appeared  also  deep  shadows 
lying  over  brow  and  eyes ;  such  shadows  as  one  sel- 
dom finds  on  youthful  features. 

The  large,  dark  eyes,  which  had  in  their  depths 
something  gloomy,  told  of  hot,  unruled  passions. 
In  their  flashing  there  was  something  uncanny  but 
mysteriously  attractive.  One  felt  that  they  could 
charm  with  demoniac  power ;  in  fact,  the  whole  per- 
sonality of  the  man  possessed  this  uncanny,  entranc- 
ing charm. 

"But  I  cannot  help  you,  Stadinger,"  said  the 
younger  of  the  two  gentlemen.  "The  newly  arrived 
lot  has  to  be  unpacked  and  a  place  found  for  them. 
Where?  that  is  your  affair." 

"But,  Your  Highness,  if  that  is  absolutely  impos- 
sible?" argued  the  castle-keeper,  in  a  tone  indicat- 
ing that  he  stood  in  rather  familiar  relations  to  his 
young  master.  "Not  a  nook  is  free  any  more  in 
Rodeck.  I  have  had  trouble  enough  already  to 
house  the  servants  which  Your  Highness  brought 
along,  and  now  every  day  boxes  large  as  houses  ar- 
rive, and  always  it  is  'Unpack,  Stadinger/  'Find. 


THE   SIGN   OF   FLAME.  79 

room,  Stadinger/  and  in  the  meantime  the  rooms 
stand  empty  by  the  dozen  in  the  other  castles." 

"Do  not  grumble,  old  forest  spirit,  but  find  room," 
interrupted  the  Prince.  "The  arrivals  have  to  be 
put  up  here  at  Rodeck,  at  least  for  the  present,  and 
if  the  worst  comes  you  will  have  to  give  up  your  own 
lodgings." 

"Yes,  certainly ;  Stadinger  has  room  enough  in  his 
lodgings,"  joined  in  the  second  gentleman.  "I  shall 
arrange  it  myself  and  measure  it  all." 

"And  Lena  can  help  you  with  it,"  added  the 
Prince,  supporting  the  proposal  of  his  friend.  "She 
is  at  home,  is  she  not?" 

Stadinger  measured  the  gentlemen  from  head  to 
foot,  then  answered  drily : 

"No,  Your  Highness,  Lena  is  away." 

"Where?"  cried  the  Prince,  starting  up.  "Where 
has  she  gone?" 

"To  town,"  was  the  laconic  reply. 

"What!  I  thought  you  intended  keeping  your 
grandchild  at  home  all  winter." 

"That  has  been  changed,"  replied  the  castle-keeper 
with  imperturbable  composure.  "My  old  sister  Rosa 
only  is  at  home  now.  If  you  wish  to  measure  my 
dwelling  with  her  help,  Herr  Rojanow,  she  would 
consider  it  a  high  honor." 

Rojanow  glanced  at  the  old  man  in  no  very 
friendly  way,  and  the  young  prince  said  reproach- 
fully : 

"Now  listen,  Stadinger,  you  treat  us  in  quite  an 
unaccountable  manner.  You  even  take  Lena  away 
from  us,  the  only  one  who  was  worth  looking  at. 
All  else  here  in  the  female  line  have  the  sixties  be- 
hind them,  and  their  heads  positively  shake  from 
old  age;  and  the  kitchen  women  you  got  from 


80  THE   SIGN   OF   FLAME. 

Furstenstein  to  help  actually  offend  our  sense  of 
beauty." 

"Your  Highnesses  do  not  need  to  look  at  them," 
suggested  Stadinger.  "I  look  out  that  the  servants 
do  not  come  into  the  castle,  but  if  Your  Highness 
goes  into  the  kitchen  like  the  day  before  yester- 
day  " 

"Well,  must  I  not  inspect  my  servants  at  times? 
But  I  shall  not  go  into  the  kitchen  a  second  time — 
you  have  taken  care  of  that.  I  have  my  suspicions 
that  you  have  gathered  here  all  the  very  ugliest  of 
the  Wald  to  celebrate  my  arrival.  You  ought  to  be 
ashamed,  Stadinger." 

The  old  man  looked  sharply  and  fixedly  into  his 
master's  eyes,  and  his  voice  sounded  very  impressive 
as  he  answered : 

"I  am  not  ashamed  a  bit,  Your  Highness.  When 
the  late  Prince,  Your  Highness'  father,  gave  me  this 
post  of  rest  he  said  to  me,  'Keep  order  at  Rodeck, 
Stadinger — I  rely  upon  you.'  Well,  I  have  kept 
order  for  twelve  years  in  the  castle,  and  in  my  house 
particularly,  and  I  shall  do  that  in  future.  Has 
Your  Highness  any  orders  for  me?" 

"No,  you  old,  rude  thing,"  cried  the  Prince,  half 
laughing,  half  angry.  "Make  haste  and  get  away. 
We  do  not  need  any  curtain  lectures." 

Stadinger  obeyed.     He  saluted  and  marched  off. 

Rojanow  looked  after  him  and  shrugged  his  shoul- 
ders sarcastically. 

"I  admire  your  patience,  Egon.  You  allow  your 
servants  very  far-reaching  liberty." 

"Stadinger  is  an  exception,"  replied  Egon.  "He 
allows  himself  everything;  but  he  was  not  so  much 
in  the  wrong  when  he  sent  Lena  away.  I  believe  I 
should  have  done  the  same  in  his  place." 


THE    SIGN   OF   FLAME.  81 

"But  it  is  not  the  first  time  that  this  old  castle- 
keeper  has  taken  it  upon  himself  to  call  you  and  me 
to  order.  If  I  were  his  master  he  would  have  his 
dismissal  in  the  next  hour." 

"If  I  tried  that  it  would  turn  out  badly  for  me," 
laughed  the  Prince.  "Such  old  family  heirlooms, 
who  have  served  for  three  generations,  and  have 
carried  the  children  in  their  arms,  will  be  treated 
with  respect.  I  cannot  gain  anything  there  with 
orders  and  prohibitions.  Peter  Stadinger  does  what 
he  will,  and  occasionally  lectures  me  just  as  he  sees 
fit." 

"If  you  suffer  it — such  a  thing  is  incomprehen- 
sible to  me." 

"Yes,  it  is  a  thing  you  do  not  comprehend,  Hart- 
mut,"  said  Egon  more  seriously.  "You  know  only 
the  slavish  submission  of  the  servants  in  your  coun- 
try and  the  Orient.  They  kneel  and  bow  at  every 
opportunity,  yet  steal  and  betray  their  masters  when- 
ever they  can  and  know  how.  Stadinger  is  of  an 
enviable  simplicity.  My  'Highness'  does  not  intimi- 
date him  in  the  least.  He  often  tells  me  the  har,d- 
est  things  to  my  face;  but  I  could  put  hundreds  of 
thousands  in  his  hands — he  would  not  defraud  me  of 
one  iota  of  it.  If  Rodeck  were  in  flames  and  I  in 
the  midst  of  it,  the  old  man,  with  all  his  sixty  years, 
would  stand  by  me  without  a  second  thought.  All 
this  is  different  with  us  in  Germany." 

"Yes;  with  you  in  Germany,"  repeated  Hartmut 
slowly,  and  his  glance  was  lost  dreamily  in  the  dusk 
of  the  forest. 

"Are  you  still  so  prejudiced  against  it?"  asked 
Egon.  .  "It  cost  me  persuasion  and  prayers  enough 
to  get  you  to  accompany  me  here — you  fought  so 
against  entering  German  territory." 


82  THE    SIGN   OF   FLAME. 

"I  wish  I  had  not  entered  it,"  said  Rojanow, 
gloomily.  "You  know " 

"That  all  sorts  of  bitter  remembrances  have  their 
origin  here  for  you — yes.  you  have  told  me  that ;  but 
you  must  have  been  a  boy  then.  Have  you  not  yet 
overcome  the  grudge  against  it?  You  have  the 
most  obstinate  reticence,  anyway,  upon  this  point. 
I  have  not  yet  heard  what  it  really  was  that " 

"Egon,  I  beg  of  you,  leave  the  subject,"  inter- 
rupted Hartmut,  harshly.  "I  have  told  you  once  for 
all  that  I  cannot  and  will  not  speak  of  it.  If  you 
mistrust  me,  let  me  go.  I  have  not  forced  myself 
upon  you,  you  know  that;  but  I  cannot  bear  these 
inquiries  and  questions." 

The  proud,  inconsiderate  tone  which  he  used  to- 
ward his  friend  did  not  seem  to  be  anything  new  to 
the  Prince.  He  merely  shrugged  his  shoulders  and 
said  pacifyingly: 

"How  irritable  you  are  again  to-day!  I  believe 
you  are  right  when  you  insist  that  German  air  makes 
you  nervous.  You  are  entirely  changed  since  you 
put  foot  on  this  soil." 

"It  is  possible.  I  feel  that  I  torture  you  and  my- 
self with  these  whims;  therefore  let  me  go,  Egon." 

"I  know  better !  Have  I  taken  so  much  pains  to 
catch  you,  just  to  let  you  fly  off  again  now?  No, 
no,  Hartmut,  I  shall  not  let  you  go  by  any  means/' 

The  words  sounded  playful,  but  Rojanow  seemed 
to  take  them  wrongly.  His  eyes  lighted  up  almost 
threateningly  as  he  returned : 

"And  what  if  I  will  leave?" 

"Then  I  shall  hold  you  like  this." 

With  an  indescribably  charming  expression,  Egon 
threw  his  arm  around  his  friend's  shoulder.  "And 
I  shall  ask  if  this  bad,  obstinate  Hartmut  can  bring 


THE   SIGN   OF   FLAME.  83 

his  conscience  to  desert  me.  We  have  lived  to- 
gether almost  two  years,  and  have  shared  danger 
and  joy  like  two  brothers,  and  now  you  would  storm 
out  into  the  world  again  without  asking  about  me. 
Am  I,  then,  so  little  to  you  ?" 

Such  warm,  heartfelt  beseeching  was  in  the  words 
that  Rojanow's  irritation  could  not  live.  His  eyes 
lit  up  with  an  expression  which  showed  that  he  re- 
turned just  as  intensely  the  passionate,  enthusiastic 
affection  which  the  young  Prince  bore  him,  even  if 
he  was,  in  their  mutual  relationship,  the  domineering 
one. 

''Do  you  believe  that  for  the  sake  of  any  one  else  I 
would  have  come  to  Germany?"  he  asked  in  a  low 
voice.  "Forgive  me,  Egon.  I  am  an  unstable  na- 
ture. I  have  never  been  able  to  stay  long  in  any 
place  since — since  my  boyhood." 

"Then  learn  it  now  here  at  my  home,"  cried  Egon. 
"I  came  to  Rodeck  especially  to  show  you  my  coun- 
try in  its  entire  beauty.  This  old  edifice,  which 
nestles  in  the  midst  of  the  deep  forest  like  a  fairy 
castle,  is  a  piece  of  forest  poetry  such  as  you  could 
not  find  in  any  of  my  other  possessions.  I  know 
your  taste — but  I  must  really  leave  you  now.  You 
will  not  drive  with  me  over  to  Furstenstein  ?" 

"No;  I  will  enjoy  your  much-praised  forest 
poetry,  which,  it  appears,  is  already  tiresome  to  you, 
as  you  wish  to  make  calls." 

"Yes ;  I  am  no  poet  like  you,  who  can  dream  and 
be  enthused  all  day,"  said  Egon,  laughing.  "We 
have  led  the  life  of  hermits  for  a  full  week,  and  I 
cannot  live  on  sunshine  and  forest  perfume  and  the 
curtain  lectures  of  Stadinger  alone.  I  need  people, 
and  the  Chief  Forester  is  about  the  only  person  in  the 
neighborhood.  Besides,  this  Herr  von  Schonan  is  a 


84  THE    SIGN    OF   FLAME. 

splendid,  jolly  man.     You  will  yet  meet  and  know 
him,  too." 

He  motioned  to  the  waiting  carriage,  gave  his 
hand  to  his  friend,  sprang  to  his  seat  and  rolled 
away. 


CHAPTER  XL 

ROJANOW  looked  after  him  until  the  vehicle  had 
disappeared  behind  the  trees,  then  he  turned  and 
took  one  of  the  paths  which  led  into  the  forest.  He 
carried  his  gun  over  his  shoulder,  but  evidently  did 
not  think  of  hunting-.  Lost  in  thought,  he  walked 
further  and  further  aimlessly,  without  noticing  the 
road  or  direction,  until  deepest  forest  loneliness  sur- 
rounded him. 

Prince  Adelsberg  was  right ;  he  knew  his  friend's 
taste.  This  forest  poetry  took  full  possession  of 
him.  He  finally  came  to  a  standstill  and  drew  a 
deep  breath,  but  the  cloud  upon  his  brow  would  not 
dispel;  it  grew  darker  and  darker  as  he  leaned 
against  the  trunk  of  a  tree  and  allowed  his  eyes  to 
roam  about.  Something  not  of  peace  or  joy  was 
depicted  in  those  beautiful  features,  which  all  the 
sunny  beauty  around  could  not  erase. 

He  saw  this  country  for  the  first  time ;  his  former 
home  was  far  removed  in  the  northern  part  of  Ger- 
many; nothing  here  reminded  him  directly  of  the 
past,  and  yet  just  here  something  awoke  in  him 
which  seemed  to  have  long  been  dead — something 
which  had  not  made  itself  felt  in  all  those  years 
when  he  crossed  oceans  and  countries,  when  intoxi- 
cating waves  of  life  surrounded  him  and  he  drank 
with  full  thirsty  draughts  the  freedom  for  which  he 
had  sacrificed  so  much — everything. 

The  old  German  woods!     They  rustled  here  in 

the  south  as  up  there  in  the  familiar  north ;  the  same 

n 


86  THE   SIGtt   OP   FLAME. 

breath  floated  through  the  firs  and  oaks  here  which 
whispered  there  in  the  crowns  of  the  pines ;  the  same 
voice  which  had  once  been  so  familiar  to  the  boy 
when  he  lay  upon  the  mossy  forest  soil.  He  had 
heard  many  other  voices  since,  some  coaxing  and 
flattering,  some  intoxicating  and  enthusiastic,  but 
this  voice  sounded  so  grave  and  yet  so  sweet  in  the 
rustling  of  the  forest  trees — the  fatherland  spoke  to 
the  lost  son ! 

Something  moved  yonder  in  the  bushes.  Hart- 
mut  looked  up  indifferently,  thinking  that  some 
game  was  passing  through,  but  instead  of  that  he 
saw  the  glimmer  of  a  light  dress.  A  lady  emerged 
from  a  narrow  side  path  which  wound  through  the 
forest,  and  stood  still,  apparently  undecided  as  to  the 
direction  she  ought  to  take. 

Rojanow  had  started  at  the  unexpected  sight.  It 
awoke  him  suddenly  from  his  dream  and  called  him 
back  to  reality.  The  stranger  had  also  noticed  him. 
She,  too,  seemed  surprised,  but  only  for  a  moment ; 
then  she  drew  near  and  said  with  a  slight  bow: 
"May  I  ask  you,  sir,  to  show  me  the  road  to  Fur- 
stenstein  ?  I  am  a  stranger  here  and  have  .lost  my 
way  in  my  walk.  I  fear  I  have  wandered  consider- 
ably from  my  path." 

Hartmut  had  scanned  the  appearance  of  the  young 
lady  with  a  quick  glance,  and  immediately  decided 
to  act  as  guide.  Although  he  did  not  know  the  road 
about  which  she  had  asked — knew  only  the  direction 
in  which  it  lay — it  troubled  him  but  little.  He  made 
a  deeply  polite  bow. 

"I  place  myself  entirely  at  your  service,  gracious 
Fraulein.  Furstenstein  is,  indeed,  rather  far  from 
here,  and  you  cannot  possibly  find  the  road  by  your- 
self, so  I  must  beg  you  to  accept  my  escort." 


THE   SIGN   OF   FLAME.  8? 

The  lady  seemed  to  have  expected  the  right  direc- 
tion to  be  pointed  out,  and  the  proffered  escort  was 
evidently  not  especially  welcome,  but  she  may  have 
been  afraid  of  losing  her  way  a  second  time,  and  the 
perfect  politeness  with  which  the  offer  was  made 
scarcely  left  her  any  choice.  She  bowed  after  a  mo- 
ment's hesitation  and  replied:  "I  shall  be  very 
much  obliged  to  you.  Please  let  us  go." 

Rojanow  pointed  out  a  narrow,  half-covered  path 
which  led  in  the  direction  of  Furstenstein,  and  en- 
tered it  without  further  ado.  He  decided  to  retain 
his  role  as  guide,  for  the  little  adventure  began  to 
interest  him. 

His  protege  was,  indeed,  beautiful  enough  to 
make  the  encounter  interesting.  The  pure,  delicate 
oval  of  her  face ;  the  high,  clear  brow  surrounded  by 
shining  blonde  hair;  the  lines  of  the  features — all 
was  perfect  symmetry,  but  there  was  something 
chilling  in  the  strong  regularity  of  these  lines,  which 
was  rather  increased  by  a  mark  of  energetic  will 
power  most  plainly  pronounced.  The  young  lady 
could  not  be  more  than  eighteen  or  nineteen  years 
old  at  the  utmost,  but  she  had  nothing  of  the  charm 
of  mirth  and  gayety  belonging  to  that  age.  The 
large  blue  eyes  looked  as  calm  and  grave  as  if  a  girl- 
ish dream  had  never  brightened  them,  and  the  same 
cold,  proud  composure  was  visible  in  the  carriage 
and  whole  appearance. 

This  tall,  slender  figure  affected  one  like  a  chill- 
ing breath.  Her  plain  but  elegant  apparel  showed 
that  she  belonged  to  the  high  classes. 

Rojanow  had  time  enough  to  observe  her  as  he 
walked  now  behind  her  and  now  before,  bending 
back  the  low-hanging  bows,  or  warning  of  the  un- 
evenness  of  the  ground.  This  narrow  forest  path 


88  THE   SIGtf   OF   FLAME. 

was  truly  not  comfortable,  and  proved  itself  not 
very  appropriate  for  the  toilet  of  a  lady.  More  than 
once  her  dress  was  caught  by  the  bushes ;  the  veil  of 
her  hat  was  entangled  in  the  boughs  at  every  oppor- 
tunity, while  the  mossy  soil  proved  at  times  very 
damp  and  foggy. 

All  of  this,  however,  was  borne  with  perfect  in- 
difference, but  Hartmut  felt  that  he  was  not  doing 
himself  much  credit  with  his  post  as  guide. 

"I  am  sorry  to  have  to  lead  you  over  such  a  rough 
path,  Fraulein,"  he  said  courteously.  "I  am  really 
afraid  of  fatiguing  you,  but  we  are  in  the  densest 
forest  and  there  is  no  choice  whatever." 

"I  am  not  easily  fatigued,"  was  the  calm  rejoin- 
der. "I  care  little  for  the  roughness  of  the  road  if 
it  only  leads  to  the  desired  end." 

The  remark  sounded  somewhat  unusual  from  the 
lips  of  a  young  girl.  Rojanow  seemed  to  think  so, 
and  smiled  rather  sarcastically  as  he  repeated : 

"If  it  only  leads  to  the  desired  end  ?  Quite  so — 
that  is  my  opinion,  but  ladies  are  usually  of  a  dif- 
ferent mind ;  they  wish  to  be  borne  softly  over  every 
inconvenience." 

"All  of  them  ?  There  are  also  women  who  prefer 
to  go  alone,  without  being  led  like  a  child." 

"Perhaps,  as  an  exception.  I  prize  the  chance 
which  gives  me  the  good  fortune  of  meeting  such  a 
charming  exception " 

Hartmut  was  about  to  utter  a  bold  compliment, 
but  suddenly  grew  silent,  for  the  blue  eyes  looked 
at  him  with  an  expression  that  made  the  words  die 
upon  his  lips. 

At  this  moment  the  lady's  veil  was  caught  again 
by  a  thorny  bush,  which  held  it  fast  relentlessly. 
She  stood  still,  but  hardly  had  her  companion 


THE    SIGN    OF   FLAME.  89 

stretched  forth  his  hand  to  disengage  the  delicate 
fabric,  when  she  tore  herself  free  with  a  quick  motion 
of  the  head.  The  veil  remained  hanging  in  shreds 
on  the  bough,  but  his  help  had  become  totally  super- 
fluous. 

Rojanow  bit  his  lip.  This  adventure  was  devel- 
oping quite  differently  from  what  he  had  expected. 
He  had  thought  to  play  the  agreeable  in  that  bold, 
vainglorious  manner  which  had  become  his  second 
nature  toward  ladies,  to  a  timid  young  being  who 
trusted  herself  entirely  to  his  protection,  but  he  was 
being  shown  back  to  his  proper  place  by  a  mere 
glance  at  his  first  attempt.  It  was  made  very  clear 
to  him  that  he  was  to  be  guide  here  and  nothing  else. 

Who,  then,  in  truth,  was  this  girl  who,  with 
her  eighteen  or  nineteen  years,  already  showed 
the  perfect  ease  of  a  great  lady  and  who  knew  so 
well  how  to  make  herself  unapproachable?  He  con- 
cluded to  have  light  about  it  at  any  cost. 

The  narrow  path  now  ended;  they  emerged  into 
an  opening,  the  forest  continuing  on  the  other  side. 

It  was  not  easy  to  be  a  guide  here,  where  one  was 
as  little  acquainted  with  the  country  as  Hartmut, 
but  he  would  never  confess  his  ignorance  now. 

Apparently  quite  certain,  he  kept  in  the  same  di- 
rection, choosing  one  of  the  wood  roads  which 
crossed  through  the  forest.  There  must  surely  be  a 
spot  somewhere  which  would  offer  a  free  outlook 
and  make  it  possible  to  find  the  right  road. 

The  wider  path  now  permitted  them  to  walk  side 
by  side,  and  Hartmut  took  immediate  advantage  of 
it  to  start  a  conversation,  which  thus  far  had  been 
impossible,  since  they  had  had  to  struggle  with  so 
many  obstacles. 

"I  have  neglected  so  far  to  introduce  myself,  gra- 


90  THE   SIGN"   OF   FLAME. 

cious  Fraulein,"  he  commenced.  "My  name  is  Ro- 
janow.  I  am  at  present  at  Rodeck,  a  guest  of 
Prince  Adelsberg,  who  enjoys  the  privilege  of  being 
your  neighbor,  since  you  live  at  Furstenstein." 

"No;  I  am  likewise  only  a  guest  there,"  replied 
the  lady. 

The  princely  neighbor  seemed  to  be  as  indifferent 
to  her  as  the  name  of  her  companion ;  at  all  events, 
she  did  not  seem  to  consider  it  necessary  to  give  her 
name  in  return,  but  accepted  the  introduction  with 
that  proud,  aristocratic  movement  of  the  head  which 
seemed  to  be  peculiar  to  her. 

"Ah,  you  live,  then,  at  the  Residenz,  and  have 
taken  advantage  of  the  beautiful  fall  weather  for  an 
excursion  here?" 

"Yes." 

It  sounded  as  monosyllabic  and  rebuking  as  pos- 
sible, but  Rojanow  was  not  the  man  to  be  rebuked. 
He  was  accustomed  to  have  his  personality  felt 
everywhere — to  meet  with  consideration  and  im- 
portance, particularly  among  the  ladies,  and  he  felt 
it  almost  an  insult  that  this  oft-tested  success  was 
denied  him  here.  But  it  excited  him  to  enforce  a 
conversation  which  apparently  was  not  desired. 

"Are  you  satisfied  with  your  stay  at  Fursten- 
stein?" he  began  anew.  "I  have  not  yet  been  there, 
and  have  only  seen  the  castle  from  afar,  but  it  seems 
to  overlook  the  whole  vicinity.  A  peculiar  taste  is 
needed,  however,  to  find  the  country  beautiful." 

"And  this  taste  does  not  seem  to  be  yours." 

"At  any  rate,  I  do  not  love  the  monotony,  and 
here  one  has  the  same  view  everywhere.  Forest 
and  forest  and  nothing  but  forest !  It  is  enough 
sometimes  to  create  despair." 

It  sounded  like  suppressed  resentment.     The  poor 


THE   SIGN   OF   FLAME.  91 

German  forests  had  to  atone  for  torturing  the  re- 
turned prodigal  to  such  an  extent  that  he  had  been 
upon  the  point  several  times  of  fleeing  from  their 
whispering  and  rustling.  He  could  not  bear  it — 
this  grave,  monotonous  tune  of  old  times  which  the 
leaves  whispered  to  him. 

His  companion  heard,  of  course,  only  the  sarcasm 
in  the  remark. 

"You  are  a  foreigner,  Herr  Rojanow  ?"  she  asked 
calmly. 

A  dark  shadow  passed  again  over  Hartmut's 
brow.  He  hesitated  for  a  moment,  then  replied 
coldly:  "Yes,  gracious  Fraulein." 

''I  thought  so ;  your  name,  as  well  as  appearance, 
betrays  it,  and  therefore  your  opinion  is  conceiv- 
able." 

"It  is  certainly  an  unbiased  opinion,"  said  Hart- 
mut,  irritated  by  the  reproach  contained  in  the  last 
words.  "I  have  seen  a  great  deal  of  the  world,  and 
have  but  now  returned  from  the  Orient.  Whoever 
has  known  the  ocean  in  its  brilliant,  transparent  blue, 
or  its  majestic,  stormy  uproar;  whoever  has  enjoyed 
the  charm  of  the  tropics,  and  been  intoxicated  with 
their  splendor  and  coloring — to  him  these  evergreen 
forest  depths  appear  but  cold  and  colorless,  like  all 
of  these  German  landscapes,  anyhow." 

The  contemptuous  shrug  of  the  shoulders  with 
which  he  concluded  seemed  to  finally  arouse  his 
companion  from  her  cool  indifference.  An  expres- 
sion of  displeasure  flitted  across  her  features,  and  her 
voice  betrayed  a  certain  excitement  as  she  answered  : 
"That  is  probably  solely  and  entirely  a  matter  of 
taste.  I  know,  if  not  the  Orient,  at  least  the  south 
of  Europe.  Those  sun-glaring,  color-shining  land- 
scapes intoxicate  for  the  moment,  certainly,  and  then 


92  THE   SIGN   OF   FLAME. 

they  weary  one.  They  lack  freshness  and  strength. 
One  can  dream  and  enjoy  there,  but  not  live  and 
work.  But  why  argue  about  it  ?  You  do  not  under- 
stand our  German  forests." 

Hartmut  smiled  with  undeniable  satisfaction.  He 
had  succeeded  in  breaking  the  icy  reticence  of  his 
companion.  All  of  his  charming  politeness  had 
been  without  effect,  but  he  saw  now  that  there  was 
something  which  could  call  life  into  those  cold  fea- 
tures, and  he  found  it  attractive  to  draw  it  out.  If 
he  offended  by  it,  it  did  not  matter;  it  gave  him 
pleasure. 

"That  sounds  like  a  reproof  which,  alas!  I  have 
to  accept,"  he  said,  with  an  undisguised  sneer.  "It 
is  possible  that  this  understanding  is  wanting  in 
me.  I  am  accustomed  to  measure  nature  differently 
from  most  people.  Live  and  work!  It  depends 
greatly  upon  what  one  calls  living  and  working.  I 
have  lived  for  years  in  Paris,  that  mighty  centre  of 
civilization,  where  life  throbs  and  flows  in  a  thou- 
sand streams.  Whoever  is  used  to  being  borne  on 
those  sparkling  waves  cannot  bring  himself  again 
into  narrow,  petit  views — into  all  those  prejudices 
and  pedantries  which  in  this  good  Germany  are 
called  'life.' ' 

The  contemptuous  stress  which  he  put  upon  the 
last  words  had  something  of  a  challenge  in  it,  and 
reached  its  aim. 

His  companion  came  to  a  sudden  standstill  and 
measured  him  from  head  to  foot,  while  from  the 
formerly  cold,  blue  eyes  there  flashed  a  spark  of 
burning  anger.  She  seemed  to  have  an  angry  reply 
upon  her  lips,  but  suppressed  it.  She  only  straight- 
ened herself  to  her  fullest  height,  and  her  words  were 
few  and  of  icy,  haughty  reprimand. 


THE    SIGN   OF   FLAME.  93 

"You  forget,  mein  Herr,  that  you  speak  to  a  Ger- 
man. I  remind  you  of  it." 

Hartmut's  brow  glowed  dark-red  under  this  stern 
reproof,  and  yet  it  was  directed  only  to  the  stranger 
— the  foreigner — who  forgot  the  consideration  of  a 
guest. 

If  this  girl  had  an  idea  who  spoke  so  to  her — if 
she  knew !  Hot,  burning  shame  rose  suddenly  with- 
in him,  but  he  was  man  of  the  world  enough  to  con- 
trol himself  immediately. 

"I  beg  your  pardon,"  he  said  with  a  slight,  half- 
sarcastic  bow.  "I  was  under  the  impression  that  we 
were  exchanging  only  general  views,  which  have  the 
right  of  unbiased  opinions.  I  am  sorry  to  have 
offended  you,  gracious  Fraulein." 

An  inimitable,  proud  and  disdainful  motion  of 
the  head  assured  him  that  he  did  not  even  possess 
the  power  to  offend  her.  She  shrugged  her  shoul- 
ders in  a  barely  perceptible  manner. 

"I  do  not  wish  to  bias  your  opinions  in  the  least, 
but  as  our  views  are  so  widely  different  on  this  mat- 
ter, we  will  do  better  to  discontinue  our  conversa- 
tion." 

Rojanow  was  not  inclined  to  continue  it.  He  knew 
now  that  those  cold,  blue  eyes  could  flash.  He  had 
wished  to  see  it — had  caused  it  to  happen,  and  yet 
the  matter  had  ended  differently  from  what  he  had 
anticipated.  He  glanced  with  a  half  hostile  look 
at  the  slender  figure  at  his  side,  and  then  his  eyes 
roamed  resentfully  again  in  the  bitterly  abused  green 
depths  of  the  forest. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

THIS  forest  loneliness  had,  however,  something 
fascinating  in  it.  It  was  touched  by  the  first  slight 
breath  of  autumn;  that  touch  which  has  not  yet 
brought  withering  and  death,  but  has  only  steeped 
the  landscape  in  richer  coloring.  Here  and  there 
brilliant  red  and  gold  flashed  through  the  bushes, 
but  the  forest  itself  still  rested  fresh  and  aromatic 
in  its  green  dusk. 

Beneath  the  crowns  of  the  century-old  trees  bend- 
ing gracefully  toward  each  other,  deep,  cool  shadows 
glided,  and  in  the  openings  golden  sunshine  lay  glis- 
tening on  the  flowers  which  bloomed  here  in  the 
light.  Occasionally  in  the  distance  the  bright  mir- 
ror of  a  small  pond  glittered,  resting  lonely,  as  if 
lost  in  the  midst  of  the  deep  forest. 

Through  the  profound  quiet  all  around  could  be 
heard  the  low  rustling  of  the  mighty  trees  and  the 
humming  and  singing  of  thousands  of  insects  that 
seemed  to  float  upon  the  rays  of  the  sun  :  all  of  those 
mysterious  voices  which  are  heard  only  in  solitude — 
the  sweet,  dreamy  language  of  the  forest.  It  lured 
and  coaxed  irresistibly  with  its  green  depths,  which 
stretched  endlessly,  always  further  and  further,  as  if 
it  wished  to  keep  forever  within  its  charm  the  two 
now  walking  through  it. 

But  suddenly  quite  an  unexpected  obstacle  ap- 
peared before  them.  Dashing  and  roaring  from  the 
thickly  grown  heights,  a  broad  forest  brook  made  a, 


THE    SIGN   OF   FLAME.  95 

.Way  for  itself  with  merry  haste  through  bushes  and 
rocks. 

Rojanow  paused  in  his  walk  and  took  in  the  situa- 
tion with  a  quick  glance,  but  as  nowhere  could  a 
ford  or  bridge  be  discovered,  he  turned  to  his  com- 
panion. 

"I  fear  we  are  in  trouble ;  the  brook  seems  to  put 
an  end  to  our  path.  It  is  usually  easy  to  cross  on 
the  moss-covered  stones  at  the  bottom,  with  some 
care,  but  yesterday's  rain  has  covered  them  com- 
pletely." 

The  young  lady  was  looking  anxiously  for  some 
crossing  place.  "Would  it  not  be  possible  further 
down?"  she  asked,  pointing  down  the  stream. 

"No,  for  the  water  is  deeper  and  more  rapid  there. 
We  must  cross  here  at  this  place.  Of  course,  you 
cannot  go  through  the  water.  You  will  permit  me, 
Fraulein,  to  carry  you  over?" 

The  offer  was  made  with  perfect  courtesy  and  re- 
serve, but  Rojanow's  eyes  flashed  triumphantly. 
Chance  was  avenging  him  now  on  the  unapproach- 
able one,  who  would  not  suffer  his  assistance  even 
in  the  disengaging  of  her  veil  from  a  thorn  bush. 
She  had  now  to  entrust  herself  unconditionally  to 
his  help,  there  was  no  choice  but  to  allow  herself  to 
be  carried  in  his  arms  to  the  other  bank. 

He  drew  near  as  if  the  permission  sought  had  been 
granted,  but  she  recoiled. 

"I  thank  you,  Herr  Rojanow." 

Hartmut  smiled  with  an  irony  which  he  took  no 
pains  to  conceal.  He  was  master  of  the  situation 
now  and  intended  to  remain  so. 

"Do  you  desire  to  turn  back  ?"  he  asked.  "More 
than  an  hour  would  be  lost,  whereas  if  we  cross  here 
{he.  other  side  will  be  reached  in  a  few  moments, 


96  THE    SIGN    OF   FLAME. 

You  can  trust  yourself  to  my  arms  without  fear — 
the  crossing  will  be  quite  without  danger." 

"I  think  so,  too,"  was  the  calm  reply,  "and  there- 
fore I  shall  try  it  alone." 

"Alone  ?     That  is  impossible,  Fraulein !" 

"Impossible  to  walk  through  a  forest  brook?  I 
do  not  consider  that  a  particularly  heroic  deed." 

"But  the  water  is  deeper  than  you  think.  You 
will  get  a  thorough  wetting,  and  besides — it  is  really 
impossible." 

"I  am  not  effeminate  in  the  least  and  do  not  catch 
cold  easily.  Be  so  kind  as  to  go  first.  I  will  fol- 
low." 

That  was  plain  enough,  and  sounded  so  com- 
manding that  remonstrance  was  not  possible.  Hart- 
mut  bowed  a  silent  assent  and  waded  through  the 
water,  which  could  do  no  damage  to  his  high  hunt- 
ing boots. 

It  was.  indeed,  rather  deep  and  violent,  so  that  he 
had  to  be  careful  in  getting  a  firm  foothold  upon  the 
stones.  A  slight  smile  played  around  his  lips  as  he 
stood  on  the  other  bank  and  awaited  his  companion, 
who  had  refused  his  protection  so  haughtily.  Let 
her  try  coming  alone ;  the  water  would  frighten  her ; 
she  would  not  be  able  to  battle  with  it,  and  would 
be  compelled  to  call  him  to  help  her  in  spite  of  her 
reluctance. 

She  had  followed  him  without  hesitation.  With 
her  delicate,  thin  boots  offering  no  resistance  what- 
ever, she  already  stood  in  the  water,  which  was  cold, 
but  she  seemed  scarcely  to  feel  it.  Catching  up  her 
dress  with  both  hands,  she  advanced  carefully  and 
slowly,  but  quite  surely,  to  the  middle  of  the 
brook. 

But  here  in  the  midst  of  the  dashing,  foaming 


THE    SIGN    OF   FLAME.  97 

flood,  it  required  the  firm  step  of  a  man  to  hold  its 
own.  The  slender,  soft  foot  of  the  lady  searched  in 
vain  for  a  hold  upon  the  slippery  stones.  The  high 
heels  of  the  dainty  boots  were  as  much  of  a  detri- 
ment as  the  dress,  the  hem  of  which  was  caught  by 
the  waves. 

The  courageous  pedestrian  apparently  lost  the  con- 
fidence hitherto  displayed.  She  slipped  several  times 
and  finally  stood  still.  A  questioning  glance  flew 
over  to  the  bank  where  Rojanow  stood,  firmly  de- 
cided not  to  lift  his  hand  to  help  her  until  she  asked 
for  it. 

She  may  have  read  this  resolution  in  his  eyes,  and 
it  seemed  to  give  her  back  instantly  her  failing 
strength.  She  stood  immovable  a  moment,  but  the 
determined  expression  in  her  features  was  in  full 
play.  Suddenly  she  slipped  from  the  flooded  stones 
into  water  a  foot  deep,  where  she  now,  indeed, 
gained  terra  firma  directly  on  the  bottom  of  the 
brook,  and  could  walk  unmolested  to  the  other  bank. 
She  grasped  a  branch  of  a  tree,  instead  of  Hartmut's 
offered  hand,  and  by  its  aid  swung  herself  to  dry 
land. 

Naturally  she  was  very  wet.  The  water  ran  from 
her  dress,  which  she  had  released  from  her  grasp 
without  consideration,  but  with  perfect  unconcern 
she  turned  to  her  escort  and  said :  "Shall  we  con- 
tinue on  our  way?  It  cannot  be  very  far  to  Fur- 
stenstein." 

Hartmut  did  not  return  a  syllable,  but  something 
like  hatred  sprang  up  within  him  for  this  woman, 
who  would  rather  slip  into  the  cold  flood  than  trust 
herself  to  his  arms.  The  proud,  spoiled  man  whose 
brilliant  traits  had  heretofore  won  all  hearts,  felt  so 
much  more  keenly  the  humiliation  which  was  forced 


98  THE    SIGN    OF   FLAME. 

upon  him  here.     He  almost  cursed  the  whole  en- 
counter. 

They  walked  on.  From  time  to  time  Rojanow 
threw  a  glance  upon  the  heavy,  wet  hem  of  the  dress 
which  trailed  on  the  ground  beside  him,  but  other- 
wise he  bestowed  his  whole  attention  upon  the  sur- 
roundings, which  seemed  to  get  lighter.  This 
forest  thickness  must  end  some  time! 

His  supposition  was  correct.  He  had  been  suc- 
cessful in  his  leadership,  for  the  path  taken  at  ran- 
dom proved  the  right  one.  In  about  ten  minutes 
they  stood  upon  a  slight  elevation  which  offered  a 
free  outlook.  Over  yonder,- above  an  ocean  of  tree- 
tops,  rose  the  towers  of  Furstenstein,  while  a  broad 
road,  which  could  be  plainly  seen,  wound  to  the  foot 
of  the  castle  mount. 

"There  is  Furstenstein,"  said  Hartmut,  turning 
for  the  first  time  to  his  companion,  "although  it  will 
be  about  half  an  hour's  walk  from  here." 

"That  is  of  no  consequence,"  she  interrupted  him 
quickly.  "I  am  very  grateful  to  you  for  your  guid- 
ance, but  I  cannot  now  miss  the  road,  and  I  should 
not  like  to  trouble  you  further." 

"As  you  wish,  gracious  Fraulein,"  Rojanow  said, 
coldly.  "If  you  desire  to  dismiss  your  guide  here 
he  will  not  force  himself  upon  you." 

The  reproach  was  understood.  The  young  lady 
herself  might  feel  that  a  man  who  had  guided  her 
through  the  forest  for  hours  might  well  deserve  a 
different  dismissal,  even  if  she  found  it  necessary  to 
keep  him  at  a  distance. 

"I  have  already  detained  you  too  long,"  she  said 
graciously,  "and  since  you  have  introduced  yourself, 
Herr  Rojanow,  let  me  give  you  my  name  also  before 
we  part — A4elai4e  von  WaUrnoden," 


THE    SIGN    OF    FLAME.  99 

Hartmut  started  slightly  and  a  burning  blush 
covered  his  face  as  he  repeated  slowly,  "Wall- 
moden !" 

"Is  the  name  familiar  to  you?" 

"I  believe  I  have  heard  it  before,  but  it  was  in — 
in  North  Germany." 

"Most  probably,  for  that  is  my  husband's  home." 

Unmistakable  surprise  was  depicted  in  Rojanow's 
face  as  the  supposed  young  girl  announced  herself  a 
married  woman,  but  he  bowed  politely. 

"Then  I  beg  your  pardon,  gracious  lady,  for  the 
wrong  address.  I  could  not  anticipate  that  you  were 
married.  In  any  case,  I  have  not  the  honor  of 
knowing  your  husband  even  by  name,  for  the  gen- 
tleman who  was  then  known  to  me  was  already  ad- 
vanced in  years.  He  belonged  to  the  diplomatic 
corps,  and  his  name  was,  if  I  am  not  mistaken,  Her- 
bert von  Wallmoden." 

"Quite  right;  my  husband  is  at  present  Ambassa- 
dor at  the  court  of  this  country.  But  he  will  be 
anxious  about  my  long  stay.  I  must  not  tarry 
longer.  Once  again,  my  thanks,  Herr  Rojanow." 

She  bowed  slightly  and  took  the  descending  road. 
Hartmut  stood  motionless,  looking  after  her,  but  an 
ashy  paleness  was  on  his  face. 

So — he  had  hardly  set  foot  upon  German  soil  be- 
fore there  met  him  a  name  and  connection  with  old 
times  which  was  at  least  painfully  disagreeable  to 
him. 

Herbert  von  Wallmoden,  brother  of  Frau  von 
Eschenhagen,  guardian  of  Willibald,  and  friend 
of 

Rojanow  suddenly  broke  off  in  his  thoughts,  for 
a  sharp,  painful  stab  sank  into  his  breast. 

As  if  to  throw  something  from  him  he  straight- 


100  THE    SIGN   OF   FLAME. 

ened  himself,  and  again  the  harsh,  offensive  sarcasm 
trembled  around  his  lips,  over  which  he  had  such 
masterly  command. 

"Uncle  Wallmoden  has  made  a  fine  career  at 
least,"  he  murmured,  "and  seems  to  have  had  good 
luck  besides.  His  hair  must  have  been  gray  a  long 
time,  and  yet  with  it  he  conquers  a  young,  beautiful 
girl.  Of  course  an  ambassador  is  always  a  good 
match,  hence  the  cool,  aristocratic  manner  which 
does  not  consider  it  worth  the  while  to  bend  to  other 
mortals.  Probably  the  diplomatic  school  of  the 
husband  has  educated  his  chosen  one  especially  for 
this  position.  Well,  he  has  succeeded  admirably." 

His  eyes  still  followed  the  young  wife,  who  had 
already  reached  the  foot  of  the  hill,  but  now  a  deep 
furrow  appeared  in  his  brow. 

"If  I  should  meet  Wallmoden  here — and  it  can 
scarcely  be  avoided — he  will  recognize  me  beyond  a 
doubt.  If  he  then  tells  her  the  truth — if  she  learns 
what  has  happened — and  looks  at  me  again  with 

that  look  of  contempt "  In  wild,  out-breaking 

wrath  he  stamped  his  foot  upon  the  ground,  then 
laughed  bitterly. 

"Pah!  what  do  I  care?  What  does  this  blond, 
blue-eyed  race,  with  their  indolent,  cold  blood,  know 
of  the  longing  for  freedom — of  the  storm  of  pas- 
sions— of  life  in  general?  Let  them  pass  judgment 
upon  me !  I  do  not  fear  the  meeting.  I  shall  know 
how  to  hold  my  own." 

Throwing  back  his  head  in  proud  defiance,  he 
turned  his  back  upon  the  slender  female  figure  yet 
visible,  and  walked  back  into  the  forest. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

AT  the  home  of  the  Chief  of  all  the  foresters,  the 
talked-of  family  fete  for  which  Wallmoden  and  his 
young  wife  had  expressly  come,  had  taken  place 
according  to  programme,  and  the  lord  of  Burgs- 
dorf  and  Antonie  von  Schonan  were  formally  be- 
trothed. 

The  young  couple  had  long  known  that  they  were 
intended  for  each  other,  and  were  perfectly  con- 
tented therewith. 

Willibald,  like  a  good  son,  was  still  of  the  opinion 
that  the  selection  of  his  future  wife  was  solely  the 
business  of  his  mother,  and  he  had  quietly  waited 
until  she  found  it  convenient  to  betroth  him.  Still 
it  was  agreeable  to  him  that  it  was  just  Cousin  Toni 
he  was  to  marry. 

He  had  known  her  since  their  childhood;  she 
suited  him  admirably,  and  what  was  of  some  import- 
ance, she  made  no  demands  for  the  romantic  part  of 
the  engagement,  which,  with  the  best  will  in  the 
world,  he  could  not  have  complied  with. 

Toni  exhibited  the  good  taste  which  Frau  Regine 
credited  her  with.  Willy  pleased  her  very  much, 
and  the  prospect  of  becoming  mistress  of  stately 
Biirgsdorf  pleased  her  still  better.  So  all  was  in 
perfect  accord. 

The  betrothed  couple  were  at  present  in  the  recep- 
tion room  where  the  piano  stood  and  Antonie  was 

entertaining  her  betrothed  with  music  at  the  request 

101 


102  THE    SIGN   OF    FLAME. 

of  her  father.  She  herself  considered  music  a  very 
tiresome  and  superfluous  affair;  but  the  Chief  For- 
ester had  insisted  that  his  daughter  should  demon- 
strate not  only  her  ability  as  a  housekeeper,  but  that 
she  had  also  been  educated  in  the  higher  arts. 

He  was  walking  up  and  down  the  terrace  with  his 
sister-in-law,  with  the  original  intention  of  listening 
to  the  music,  but  instead  of  that  they  were  quarrel-- 
ing again,  although  they  had  started  out  with  a 
peaceful  conversation  about  the  happiness  of  the 
children.  This  time  the  quarrel  seemed  to  be  of  a 
very  violent  nature. 

"I  really  do  not  know  what  to  think  of  you, 
Moritz,"  said  Frau  von  Eschenhagen  with  a  very 
red  face.  "You  do  not  seem  to  have  any  sense  of  the 
impropriety  of  this  acquaintance.  When  I  ask  you 
who  this  bosom  friend  of  Toni's  really  is — the  one 
who  is  expected  at  Waldhofen — you  answer  me  in 
the  calmest  manner  possible  that  she  is  a  singer,  and 
recently  engaged  at  the  Court  Theatre.  An  actress ! 
a  theatre  princess!  one  of  those  frivolous  crea- 
tures  " 

"But,  Regine,  do  not  get  so  excited,"  interrupted 
von  Schonan  vexedly.  "You  act  as  though  the  poor 
thing  was  already  lost  body  and  soul,  because  she  has 
appeared  on  the  stage." 

"So  she  is,"  declared  Regine;  "whoever  once  en- 
ters this  Sodom  and  Gomorrah  is  not  to  be  saved — 
they  go  to  their  ruin  there." 

"Very  flattering  to  our  Court  Theatre,"  said 
Schonan  drily.  "Besides,  all  of  us  go  there." 

"As  audience — that  is  quite  different.  But  I  have 
always  been  against  it.  Willy  has  been  allowed  to 
attend  the  theatre  but  seldom,  and  then  only  in  my 
company ;  but  while  I  fulfil  my  maternal  duty,  con- 


THE    SIGN    OF    FLAME.  103 

scientiously  protecting  my  son  from  any  touch  with 
those  circles,  you  give  his  future  wife  over  freely  to 
their  poisonous  influences.  It  is  worthy  of  a  cry  to 
heaven!" 

Her  voice  had  grown  very  loud,  partly  through 
indignation  and  partly  that  she  might  be  heard,  for 
the  musical  performance  in  the  room,  whose  glass 
doors  stood  wide  open,  was  of  a  rather  loud  nature. 

The  young  lady  had  a  somewhat  hard  touch  and 
her  performance  reminded  one  of  the  working  of  an 
ax  in  hard  wood.  Although  her  three  listeners  had 
strong  nerves,  a  low  conversation  had  become  an 
impossibility. 

"Let  me  explain  this  matter  to  you,"  said  the 
Chief  Forester  pacifyingly.  "I  have  already  told 
you  that  this  case  is  an  exception.  Marietta  Volk- 
mar  is  the  granddaughter  of  our  good  old  physician 
at  Waldhofen.  He  had  the  misfortune  to  lose  his 
son  in  the  prime  of  life — the  young  widow  followed 
her  husband  in  the  next  year,  and  their  child,  the 
little  orphan,  came  to  her  grandfather.  That  hap- 
pened when  I  was  promoted  here  to  Furstenstein, 
ten  years  ago.  Dr.  Volkmar  became  my  house 
physician;  his  granddaughter  the  playmate  of  my 
children,  and  because  the  school  in  Waldhofen  was 
very  poor,  I  offered  to  let  the  little  one  participate 
in  the  lessons  of  my  children.  The  friendship  dates 
from  then. 

"Later  on,  when  Toni  was  sent  to  boarding  school 
for  two  years,  and  Marietta  went  to  the  city  for  her 
musical  education,  this  daily  intercourse  was,  of 
course,  broken,  but  Marietta  visits  us  regularly  when 
she  comes  to  her  grandfather  during  her  vacations, 
and  I  do  not  see  why  I  should  prohibit  it  as  long  as 
the  girl  remains  good  and  true." 


104  THE    SIGN    OF   FLAME. 

Frau  von  Eschenhagen  had  listened  to  the  expla- 
nation without  abating  her  severity  in  the  least,  and 
now  she  laughed  ironically. 

"Good  and  true  at  the  theatre !  One  knows  how 
things  go  there,  but  you  seem  to  take  it  just  as  easy 
as  this  Dr.  Volkmar,  who  looks  so  venerable  with  his 
white  hair,  and  yet  consents  to  his  granddaughter — 
a  young  soul  entrusted  to  his  care — going  on  the 
path  to  destruction." 

Herr  von  Schonan  made  an  impatient  gesture. 

"Regine,  you  are  usually  such  a  sensible  woman, 
but  you  have  never  wished  to  be  reasonable  on  this 
point.  The  theatre  and  everything  connected  with 
it  has  always  been  under  a  ban  to  you.  The  de- 
cision has  not  been  an  easy  one  for  the  doctor.  I 
know  that;  and  if  one  like  me  can  sit  in  the  warm 
nest  and  support  one's  children,  one  should  not  break 
the  staff  over  other  parents  who  struggle  with  bitter 
cares.  Volkmar  still  works  night  and  day  with  all 
his  seventy  years,  but  the  practice  brings  him  but 
little,  for  our  vicinity  is  poor,  and  Marietta  will  be 
quite  without  means  after  his  death." 

''She  ought  to  have  become  a  governess  or  com- 
panion, then ;  that  is  a  decent  vocation." 

"But  a  miserable  vocation.  One  knows  well  how 
the  poor  things  are  treated  and  overworked.  If  a 
child  of  mine,  whom  I  loved,  had  to  decide  her  lot  in 
life,  and  it  was  told  me  that  she  had  a  fortune  in 
her  throat  and  that  a  splendid  future  was  assured 
her — well,  I  should  let  her  go  on  the  stage,  depend 
upon  that." 

This  confession  knocked  the  bottom  out  of  the 
barrel.  Frau  Regine  stood  for  a  moment  quite  still 
in  affright ;  then  she  said  solemnly :  "Moritz,  I 
shudder  at  you." 


THE    SIGN   OF   FLAME.  105 

"I  don't  care.  If  it  gives  you  any  pleasure  to 
shudder,  keep  at  it;  but  if  Marietta  comes  to  Fur- 
stenstein  as  usual,  I  shall  not  repulse  her,  and  I  also 
have  nothing  against  Toni's  going  to  see  her  in 
Waldhofen." 

Herr  von  Schonan  had  also  to  speak  very  loud,  for 
his  daughter  was  pounding  the  keys  so  that  the  win- 
dows rattled,  and  the  strings  of  the  piano  were  seri- 
ously endangered.  The  Chief  Forester,  while  in  the 
heat  of  the  controversy,  noticed  this  as  little  as  did 
his  sister-in-law,  who  now  replied  with  much  sharp- 
ness: 

"Well,  then,  it  is  at  least  a  good  thing  that  Toni  is 
to  marry  soon.  Then  the  friendship  with  this  the- 
atre princess  will  come  to  an  end,  depend  upon  that. 
Such  guests  are  not  suffered  at  our  respectable 
Burgsdorf,  and  Willy  will  not  allow  his  wife  the 
correspondence  which  seems  now  to  be  going  on  at  a 
lively  rate." 

"That  means  that  you  will  not  allow  it,"  shouted 
von  Schonan,  mockingly.  "Willy  has  nothing  to 
forbid  or  allow ;  he  is  only  the  obedient  servant  of  his 
gracious  Frau  Mamma.  It  is  unjustifiable  how  you 
keep  that  boy  under  your  thumb  when  he  is  of  age, 
betrothed,  and  soon  to  be  a  husband." 

Frau  von  Eschenhagen,  offended,  straightened 
herself. 

"I  believe  I  am  more  conscientious  with  my  re- 
sponsibilities than  you  are.  Do  you  wish  to  re- 
proach me  for  raising  my  son  with  filial  reverence 
and  love?" 

"Oh,  well;  there  is  a  point  where  conscientious- 
ness ceases  and  maltreating  commences.  You  have 
already  made  Willy  quite  silly  with  your  eternal  su- 
pervision. He  did  not  dare  to  even  propose  on  his 


106  THE    SIGN    OF    FLAME. 

own  account;  when  the  matter  began  to  get  too 
long  for  you,  you  interfered  as  usual.  'Why  these 
preliminaries,  children  ?  You  shall  have  each  other 
— you  wish  it,  your  parents  consent,  you  have  my 
blessing — therefore  kiss  each  other  and  bring  the 
thing  to  an  end.'  That  is  your  standpoint.  I,  too, 
had  filial  reverence  and  affection,  but  if  my  parents 
had  come  into  my  wooing  like  that  they  would  have 
heard  something  very  different.  But  Willy  accepted 
it  calmly.  I  truly  believe  he  was  glad  that  he  did 
not  have  to  make  a  formal  proposal." 

The  excitement  of  the  twain  had  again  risen  to  the 
boiling  point,  and  it  was  now  well  that  the  noise 
inside  had  so  increased  that  they  could  not  hear  each 
other  further. 

Fraulein  Antonie  had  strength  at  least  in  her 
hands,  and  as  she  seemed  to  consider  that  the  most 
important  thing,  her  performance  sounded  as  if  a 
regiment  of  soldiers  were  storming  an  attack. 

It  was  too  much  for  her  father.  He  suddenly 
broke  off  the  conversation  and  entered  the  room. 

"But,  Toni,  you-  do  not  need  to  break  the  new 
piano,"  he  said  with  vexation.  "What  piece  are 
you  playing?" 

Toni  sat  at  the  piano,  laboring  in  the  sweat  of  her 
brow;  not  far  removed  sat  her  betrothed  upon  a 
sofa,  his  head  supported  by  his  arm  and  eyes  shaded 
by  his  hand,  apparently  quite  entranced  with  the 
music. 

The  young  lady  turned  at  her  father's  question 
and  said  in  her  usual  slow  voice,  "I  was  playing  the 
March  of  the  Janissaries,  papa.  I  thought  it  would 
please  Willy,  since  he,  too,  has  been  a  soldier." 

"So?  But  he  served  as  a  dragoon,"  muttered 
Schonan,  approaching  his  future  son-in-law,  who 


THE    SIGN    OF   FLAME.  107 

did  not  seem  to  appreciate  the  delicate  attention,  for 
he  gave  no  sign  of  approval. 

"Willy,  what  do  you  say  to  it  ?  Willy,  do  you  not 
hear?  I  actually  believe  he  has  fallen  asleep." 

Alas !  the  supposition  proved  correct.  While  the 
March  of  the  Janissaries  thundered  over  the  keys, 
Willy  had  softly  and  sweetly  fallen  asleep,  slumber- 
ing so  soundly  that  he  did  not  even  now  awake.  This 
seemed  too  much  for  his  mother,  who  had  also  ap- 
proached. She  grasped  his  arm  sharply. 

"But,  Willy,  whatever  does  this  mean  ?  Are  you 
not  ashamed  of  yourself?" 

The  young  lord,  shaken  and  scolded  on  all  sides, 
finally  aroused  himself  and  sleepily  gazed  around. 

"What — what  shall  I Yes,  it  was  beautiful, 

dear  Toni." 

"I  believe  it,"  cried  the  Chief  with  an  angry 
laugh.  "Do  not  trouble  yourself  to  play  any  more, 
my  child.  Come,  we  will  let  your  groom-elect  have 
his  nap  out  in  peace.  He  has  good  nerves;  one 
must  confess  that." 

Saying  which  he  took  his  daughter's  arm  and  left 
the  room,  where  the  fullest  maternal  wrath  now 
broke  over  poor  Willibald.  Frau  von  Eschenhagen, 
already  provoked  by  the  preceding  conversation,  did 
not  spare  her  son,  but  justified  only  too  well  the  re- 
proaches of  her  brother-in-law.  She  scolded  the  en- 
gaged and  soon-to-be-a-husband  young  man  like  a 
schoolboy. 

"This  surpasses  everything  conceivable,"  she  con- 
cluded in  highest  indignation.  "Your  father  was 
not  very  much  at  courting,  but  if  he,  after  two  days' 
betrothal,  had  fallen  asleep  while  I  was  entertaining 
him  with  my  music,  I  should  have  aroused  him  very 
unceremoniously.  Now,  do  you  go  immediately  to 


108  THE    SIGN   OF   FLAME. 

your  fiancee  and  beg  her  pardon.  She  is  quite  right 
to  feel  offended." 

With  which  she  grasped  him  by  the  shoulder  and 
pushed  him  very  emphatically  toward  the  door. 

Willy  accepted  it  all  very  humbly  and  remorse- 
fully, for  he  was  indeed  shocked  at  his  untimely 
slumber;  but  he  could  not  help  it — he  had  been  so 
sleepy  and  the  music  was  so  wearying. 

Quite  crushed,  he  entered  the  next  room,  where 
Toni  stood,  rather  offended,  at  the  window. 

"Dear  Toni,  do  not  think  hard  of  me,"  he  began 
hesitatingly;  "it  was  so  hot  and  your  playing  had 
something  so  pacifying." 

Toni  turned.  That  this  march,  with  her  playing 
of  it,  should  be  pacifying  was  new  to  her;  but  when 
she  saw  the  crushed  mien  of  her  betrothed,  who 
stood  like  a  prisoner  before  her,  her  good  nature 
conquered,  and  she  held  out  her  hand. 

"No,  I  am  not  angry  with  you,  Willy,"  she  said 
cordially.  "I  do  not  care  either  for  the  stupid 
music.  We  will  do  something  more  sensible  when 
we  are  at  Burgsdorf." 

"Yes,  that  we  will,"  exclaimed  Willy,  joyfully 
pressing  the  offered  hand.  He  had  not  yet  aspired 
to  even  a  kiss  upon  the  hand.  "You  are  so  good, 
Toni." 

When  Frau  von  Eschenhagen  entered  soon  after- 
ward, she  found  the  couple  in  perfect  harmony,  en- 
gaged in  a  highly  interesting  conversation  about 
dairy  affairs,  which  were  somewhat  different  in  the 
two  localities  of  Burgsdorf  and  Furstenstein.  This 
was  a  subject  over  which  Willy  did  not  fall  asleep, 
and  his  mother  congratulated  herself  secretly  upon 
this  splendid  daughter-in-law,  who  showed  no  incon- 
venient sensitiveness. 


THE    SIGN   OF   FLAME.  109 

The  young  man  found  opportunity  almost  directly 
to  prove  himself  grateful  for  the  indulgence  of  his 
betrothed.  Toni  complained  that  a  package  which 
she  had  ordered  and  which  was  needed  for  the  sup- 
per table  had  not  yet  come.  It  had  arrived  safely  at 
the  post  office,  but,  it  seemed,  with  a  wrong  address, 
and  had  not  been  delivered  to  the  messenger,  who 
in  the  meantime  had  been  dispatched  elsewhere.  No 
other  servant  was  at  liberty  to  go,  and  the  time  of 
need  for  it  was  drawing  near.  Willibald  hastened 
to  offer  his  services,  which  were  joyfully  accepted  by 
his  fiancee. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

WALDHOFEN  was  the  most  important  village  of 
the  vicinity,  but  still  only  a  small  place.  It  was 
about  half  an  hour's  distance  from  Furstenstein  and 
formed  a  kind  of  centre  for  all  the  scattered  villages 
and  hamlets  of  the  Wald. 

It  looked  very  desolate  and  forlorn  during  the 
afternoon  hours,  when  nobody  was  on  the  streets; 
so  thought  Herr  von  Eschenhagen  as  he  walked 
across  the  market  place,  where  the  post  office  was 
situated. 

He  finished  the  errand  which  had  brought  him  to 
Waldhofen,  and  found  a  man  to  carry  the  parcel  to 
the  castle.  Then,  since  the  streets  of  the  quiet  little 
place  offered  no  diversion,  he  turned  into  a  lane 
which  led  to  the  high  road  behind  the  gardens  of  the 
houses. 

The  path  was  rather  boggy ;  yesterday's  rain  had 
made  it  quite  without  a  foothold  in  places.  Yet 
Willibald  was  farmer  enough  not  to  care  about  such 
things,  but  marched  on  unconcernedly. 

He  was  in  an  exceedingly  happy  mood.  It  was 
surely  a  pleasant  thing  to  be  betrothed,  and  he  did 
not  doubt  in  the  least  that  he  would  lead  a  very 
happy  life  in  the  future  with  his  good  Toni. 

At  this  moment  a  carriage  came  toward  him, 
making  its  way  laboriously  through  the  boggy  soil, 
and  apparently  bringing  travellers,  for  a  large  trunk 
was  strapped  on  behind,  and  the  inside  seemed  to 

contain  various  travelling  appurtenances, 

uo 


THE    SIGN   OF   FLAME.  Ill 

Willibald  could  not  help  wondering  why  they 
used  this  lane,  which,  in  its  present  condition,  was 
very  tiresome ;  indeed  the  driver  seemed  dissatisfied. 
He  turned  in  his  seat  to  consult  with  the  traveller, 
who  so  far  had  not  been  visible. 

"It  really  does  not  go  any  further,  Fraulein.  I 
told  you  so  before.  We  cannot  get  through  here,  the 
wheels  stick  in  the  mud.  We  are  in  a  fix  now." 

"But  it  is  not  far  now,"  said  a  fresh  voice  from 
the  inside;  "only  a  few  hundred  paces.  Just  try  it 
again." 

"What  is  not  possible  is  not  possible,"  returned 
the  driver  with  philosophical  composure.  "We  can- 
not get  through  that  mire  before  us;  we  must  turn 
back." 

"But  I  do  not  wish  to  drive  through  town."  The 
voice  had  a  spice  of  defiance  in  it  now.  "If  it  is  not 
possible  to  drive  on,  I  shall  dismount." 

The  driver  stopped,  the  door  was  opened,  and  a 
light,  slender  figure  sprang  from  the  carriage  with 
such  sure  aim  as  to  reach  a  higher  spot  across  the 
mire.  There  she  remained  and  glanced  around 
searchingly:  but  as  the  lane  made  a  bend  nearby, 
only  a  little  of  it  could  be  overlooked.  The  young 
lady  seemed  to  observe  this  with  dissatisfaction. 
Then  her  glance  fell  upon  Herr  von  Eschenhagen, 
who,  approaching  from  the  other  direction,  now 
reached  the  bend. 

"Please,  mein  Herr,  is  the  lane  passable?"  she 
called.  He  did  not  answer  directly,  being  petrified 
with  admiration  of  her  daring  and  graceful  jump. 
Why,  she  flew  through  the  air  like  a  feather  and  yet 
stood  firm  and  safe  upon  her  feet  where  she  landed. 

"Do  you  not  hear?"  repeated  the  Fraulein  impa- 
tiently; "I  asked  if  the  lane  is  passable." 


112  THE    SIGN    OF    FLAME. 

"Yes,  I  have  walked  over  it,"  said  Willibald, 
somewhat  confused  by  the  dictatorial  questioning. 

"I  see  that,  but  I  have  no  boots  like  yours  and 
cannot  wade  through  the  mire.  Is  it  possible  to 
pass  along  the  hedges  ?  Great  heavens !  at  least  an- 
swer me." 

"I — I  believe  so.  It  is  somewhat  dry  over 
yonder." 

"Well,  I  shall  try,  then.  Turn  back,  driver,  and 
deliver  my  baggage  at  the  post  office.  I  will  send 
for  it.  Wait,  I  will  take  that  satchel  with  me. 
Hand  it  across." 

"But  the  satchel  is  too  heavy  for  you,  Fraulein," 
remonstrated  the  driver,  "and  I  cannot  leave  the 
horses  alone." 

"Well,  then,  this  gentleman  will  carry  it  for  me. 
It  is  not  far  to  our  garden.  Please,  mein  Herr,  take 
the  satchel,  the  small  one  upon  the  back  seat  with 
the  black  leather  lining.  But  do  make  haste." 

The  little  foot  stamped  the  ground  impatiently, 
for  the  young  lord  stood  there  with  open  mouth. 
He  could  not  comprehend  how  a  total  stranger  could 
dispose  of  him  so  nonchalantly,  nor  how  so  young  a 
girl  could  command  in  such  a  way. 

At  the  last  very  ungracious  words,  however,  he 
made  haste  to  approach  and  take  the  designated 
satchel,  which  seemed  the  proper  thing  to  be  done. 

"So,"  she  said  shortly.  "You,  driver,  stop  at  the 
post  office,  and  now  forward  into  the  bogs  of  Wald- 
hofen!" 

She  picked  up  her  gray  travelling  dress  and 
walked  close  to  the  hedge,  where  the  road  was  some- 
what higher  and  dryer. 

Willibald,  of  whom  no  notice  was  taken,  trotted 
behind  her  with  the  satchel.  He  had  never  seen 


THE    SIGN   OF   FLAME.  113 

anything  so  graceful  as  this  slender  figure,  which 
did  not  reach  to  his  shoulder,  and  he  occupied  him- 
self in  observing  this  figure,  because  he  had  nothing 
else  to  do. 

The  young  girl  had  something  exceedingly 
charming  and  graceful  in  her  motions,  as  well  as 
her  whole  appearance;  but  the  small  head,  with 
the  dark  hair  curling  from  under  her  hat,  was  car- 
ried with  undeniable  spirit.  The  face  was  rather 
irregular  in  outline,  but  lovely  with  its  dark,  roguish 
eyes,  while  the  small,  rosy  mouth,  around  which  lay 
a  line  of  refractory  defiance,  and  the  two  dimples  in 
the  chin,  made  it  perfectly  charming.  The  gray 
travelling  dress,  in  spite  of  its  plainness,  was  very 
tasteful  and  met  the  requirements  of  fashion.  The 
young  traveller  apparently  did  not  belong  to  the 
home-made  villagers  of  Waldhofen. 

The  road  around  the  corner  proved  indeed  some- 
what dryer,  but  one  had  to  keep  to  the  little,  raised 
path  near  the  hedge  and  to  jump  at  times  over  damp 
places.  Conversation  was,  therefore,  not  possible, 
and  Willy,  in  truth,  never  thought  of  commencing 
it.  He  carried  the  satchel  patiently,  accepting  just 
as  patiently  the  fact  that  his  companion  did  not  con- 
cern herself  in  the  least  about  him,  until,  after  ten 
minutes'  walk,  they  stood  at  the  low  gate  of  a 
garden. 

The  young  girl  bent  over  the  pickets  and  pushed 
an  inside  bolt ;  then  she  turned. 

"Many  thanks,  mein  Herr.  Please  give  me  my 
satchel  now." 

In  spite  of  its  small  dimensions,  the  bag  was 
rather  heavy,  much  too  heavy  for  the  little  hands 
outstretched  for  it.  Willibald  was  seized  with  a 
sudden  attack  of  chivalry — not  a  usual  fault  with 


114  THE    SIGN    OF   FLAME. 

him  —  and  declared  that  he  would  carry  it  to  the 
house,  which  was  accepted  with  a  gracious  nod. 

They  passed  through  a  small,  but  carefully  kept, 
garden  to  an  old,  plain  house,  and  entered  through 
the  back  door  into  a  cool,  dusky  hall,  where  their  ar- 
rival was  immediately  perceived.  An  old  servant 
rushed  out  of  the  kitchen. 

"Fraulein!  Fraulein  Marietta!  Have  you  come 
already  to-day?  Ach,  what  joy " 

She  got  no  further,  for  Marietta  flew  to  her  and 
pressed  her  little  hand  upon  her  mouth. 

"Be  still,  Babette !  Speak  quietly ;  I  want  to  sur- 
prise him.  Is  he  at  home?" 

"Yes,  the  Herr  Doctor  is  in  his  study.  Do  you 
wish  to  go  there,  Fraulein  ?" 

"No;  I  will  steal  into  the  sitting  room  and  sing 
his  favorite  song.  Careful  now,  Babette;  so  that 
he  does  not  hear  us." 

Like  a  fairy  she  slipped  lightly  and  noiselessly  to 
the  other  side  of  the  house  and  opened  a  door. 
Babette  followed  her,  not  noticing,  in  the  joy  and 
surprise  of  her  Fraulein's  return,  that  some  one  else 
stood  in  the  dark  hall.  The  door  was  left  wide 
open,  a  chair  was  carefully  moved,  and  directly  a 
low  prelude  began  in  trembling  notes,  probably  from 
a  venerable  old  piano ;  but  it  sounded  like  the  music 
of  a  harp,  and  then  a  voice  arose,  clear  and  sweet 
and  joyous  as  a  lark. 

It  did  not  last  many  minutes,  for  a  door  opposite 
was  hastily  opened,  and  a  white-haired  old  man  ap- 
peared. 

"Marietta,  my  Marietta !  is  it  really  you  ?" 

"Grandpapa!"  was  cried  back,  joyfully.  The 
song  broke  off  and  Marietta  threw  herself  upon  her 
grandfather's  neck. 


THE   SIGN   OP   FLAME.  115 

"You  naughty  child,  how  you  have  frightened 
me!"  he  scolded,  tenderly.  ''I  did  not  expect  you 
until  the  day  after  to-morrow,  and  intended  to  meet 
you  at  the  station.  Now  I  hear  your  voice,  and  do 
not  dare  to  believe  my  ears." 

The  young  girl  laughed  merrily  as  a  child.  She 
was  more  than  happy  and  content. 

"Yes,  the  surprise  has  been  a  complete  success, 
grandpapa.  I  drove  into  the  lane  and  actually 
stuck  in  the  bog.  I  came  in  the  back  door.  What 
do  you  want,  Babette?" 

"Fraulein,  the  man  who  brought  the  bag  is  still 
there,"  said  the  old  servant,  who  had  but  just  ob- 
served the  stranger.  "Shall  I  pay  him  for  you?" 

The  young  lord  still  stood  there  with  the  satchel 
in  his  hand.  But  now  Dr.  Volkmar  turned  and  ex- 
claimed in  great  embarrassment :  "Gracious  heavens ! 
Herr  von  Eschenhagen !" 

"Do  you  know  the  gentleman?"  Marietta  asked 
without  much  surprise,  for  her  grandfather  was  ac- 
customed to  meet  all  of  Waldhofen  in  his  office  of 
physician. 

"Certainly.  Babette,  take  the  valise  from  the  gen- 
tleman. I  beg  your  pardon,  mein  Herr.  I  did  not 
know  that  you  were  already  acquainted  with  my 
granddaughter. " 

"No,  we  are  not  acquainted  in  the  least,"  declared 
the  girl.  "Will  you  not  present  the  gentleman  to 
me,  grandpapa?" 

"Certainly,  my  child.  Herr  Willibald  von  Esch- 
enhagen of  Burgsdorf " 

"Toni's  betrothed!"  interrupted  Marietta,  gaily. 
"Oh,  how  funny  that  we  should  meet  in  the  middle 
of  a  bog!  If  I  had  only  known,  Herr  von  Eschen- 
hagen, I  would  not  have  treated  you  so  badly.  I  let 


116  THE    SIGN    OP   FLAME. 

you  follow  me  like  a  regular  porter.  But  why  did 
you  not  say  something?" 

Willibald  did  not  say  anything  now,  but  looked 
mutely  at  the  little  hand  which  was  cordially  ex- 
tended to  him.  Feeling  that  he  had  to  either  say  or 
do  something,  he  grasped  the  rosy  little  hand  in  his 
giant  fist  and  squeezed  and  shook  it  heartily. 

"Oh!"  cried  the  young  lady,  retreating  horrified; 
"you  have  an  awful  handshake,  Herr  von  Eschen- 
hagen.  I  believe  you  have  broken  my  fingers." 

Willibald  turned  red  with  confusion  and  stam- 
mered an  excuse.  Fortunately,  Dr.  Volkmar  now 
invited  him  to  enter,  which  invitation  he  accepted 
silently,  and  Marietta  narrated  in  a  very  laughable 
way  her  meeting  with  him.  She  treated  her  friend's 
betrothed  like  an  old  acquaintance,  for  she  had  long 
known  of  their  engagement.  She  asked  him  about 
Toni,  about  the  Chief  Forester  and  all  the  house- 
hold, her  small,  red  mouth  rattling  on  like  a  mill 
wheel. 

Still  the  young  lord  was  almost  mute.  The  clear 
voice  which  sounded,  even  in  talking,  like  the  twit- 
tering of  birds,  utterly  confused  him. 

He  had  only  met  the  doctor  yesterday,  when  the 
latter  had  called  at  Furstenstein.  There  had  been 
some  casual  mention  of  a  certain  Marietta — a  friend 
of  Toni's — but  he  did  not  know  anything  further, 
for  his  fiancee  was  not  very  communicative. 

"And  this  naughty  child  allows  you  to  stand  in 
the  hall  without  ceremony,  while  she  seats  herself  at 
the  piano  to  notify  me  of  her  arrival,"  said  Volk- 
mar, shaking  his  head.  "That  was  very  naughty, 
Marietta." 

The  young  girl  laughed  and  shook  her  curly  head. 

"Oh,  Herr  von  Eschenhagen  will  not  be  offended 


THE   SIGN   OP   FLAME.  11? 

at  that,  and  therefore  he  may  listen  while  I  sing  you 
your  favorite  song  again.  You  scarcely  heard  a 
note  of  it  before.  Shall  I  begin  now  ?" 

Without  waiting  for  an  answer,  she  ran  to  the 
piano,  and  again  that  silvery,  clear  voice  arose,  en- 
trancing the  ear  with  its  charm.  She  sang  an  old, 
simple  ,  carol,  but  it  sounded  as  soft  and  sweet  and 
coaxing  as  if  spring  and  sunshine  had  suddenly  en- 
tered the  desolate  rooms  of  the  old  house.  It  spread 
sunshine  over  the  face  of  the  old,  white-haired  man, 
where  many  a  line  of  care  and  anxiety  was  visible. 
He  listened  with  a  smile,  half  sad,  half  happy,  to 
the  song  which  may  have  reminded  him  of  his 
youth.  But  he  was  not  the  only  attentive  listener. 

The  young  lord  of  Burgsdorf,  who  two  hours 
previously  had  fallen  asleep  amidst  the  thunders  of 
"The  Janissaries'  March" — who,  in  perfect  accord 
with  his  betrothed,  had  considered  silly  music  a  tire- 
some thing  —  now  listened  to  those  soft,  floating 
sounds  as  intently  as  if  they  brought  him  a  revela- 
tion. 

He  sat  there,  bent  over,  his  eyes  fixed  immovably 
upon  the  young  girl,  who  apparently  put  all  her  soul 
into  the  song,  moving  her  head  to  and  fro  with  an 
infinitely  graceful  motion. 

When  the  song  ended  he  breathed  deeply  and 
passed  his  hand  across  his  brow. 

"My  little  singing  bird,"  said  Dr.  Volkmar,  ten- 
derly bending  over  his  granddaughter  and  kissing 
her  brow. 

"Well,  grandpapa,  my  voice  has  not  exactly  de- 
teriorated in  the  last  few  months,  has  it?"  she  asked, 
teasingly,  "but  it  does  not  seem  to  please  Herr  von 
Eschenhagen.  He  does  not  say  a  word  about  it." 

She  glanced  with  a  childish  pout  over  at  Willi- 


118  THE   SIGtt   OF  FLAME. 

bald,  who  now  also  arose  and  approached  the  piano. 
A  slight  flush  suffused  his  face,  and  his  usually  quiet 
eyes  flashed  as  he  said  in  a  low  tone:  "Oh,  it  was 
beautiful,  very  beautiful !" 

The  young  singer  may  have  been  accustomed  to 
other  compliments,  but  she  felt  the  deep,  honest  ad- 
miration in  the  laconic  words,  and  knew  very  well 
the  impression  the  song  had  made.  She  smiled, 
therefore,  as  she  replied:  "Yes,  the  song  is  beauti- 
ful. I  have  always  had  a  regular  triumph  when  I 
sang  it  as  an  addition  to  my  role." 

"To  your  role!"  replied  Willibald,  not  under- 
standing the  expression. 

"Yes,  in  the  play  from  which  I  have  just  returned. 
Oh,  it  has  been  a  splendid  success,  grandpapa.  The 
manager  would  gladly  have  prolonged  it,  but  I  had 
already  given  the  greater  part  of  my  vacation  to  it, 
and  I  wished  to  be  with  you  at  least  a  few  weeks.*' 

The  young  lord  listened  with  increasing  astonish- 
ment. 

Play!  vacation!  manager!  What  could  all  that 
mean?  The  doctor  saw  his  surprise. 

"Herr  von  Eschenhagen  does  not  know  your  vo- 
cation, my  child,"  he  said,  quietly.  "My  grand- 
daughter has  been  educated  for  the  opera." 

"How  dryly  you  say  that,  grandpapa!"  cried 
Marietta,  springing  up.  Straightening  herself  to 
the  fullest  height  of  her  dainty  figure,  she  added, 
with  mock  solemnity:  "For  five  months  a  member 
of  the  highly  respected  Ducal  Court  Theatre,  a  per- 
son of  official  honors  and  renown !" 

Member  of  the  Court  Theatre !  Willibald  almost 
shuddered  at  those  awful  words.  The  obedient  son 
of  his  mother  shared  her  disdain  of  "actresses." 
Involuntarily  he  receded  a  step  and  glared  horrified 


THE   SIGN"   OF   FLAME.  119 

at  the  young  lady  who  had  imparted  such  awful 
news  to  him.  She  laughed  merrily  at  this  motion. 

"You  are  not  compelled  to  show  so  exceeding 
much  respect  and  awe,  Herr  von  Eschenhagen.  I 
will  allow  you  to  remain  near  the  piano.  Has  not 
Toni  told  you  that  I  am  on  the  stage?" 

"Toni — no !"  Willibald  burst  out,  having  lost  his 
composure  completely.  "But  she  is  waiting  for  me. 
I  must  return  to  Furstenstein.  I  have  tarried  here 
already  too  long." 

"You  are  very  polite,"  laughed  the  girl,  gayly. 
"That  is  not  very  flattering  to  us,  but  since  you  are 
engaged  you  must  naturally  return  to  your  fiancee." 

"Yes,  and  to  my  mamma,"  said  Willibald,  who 
had  a  dark  feeling  that  something  awful  threatened 
him,  before  which  his  mother  appeared  as  a  saving 
angel.  "I  beg  your  pardon,  but  I  have  stayed  here 
already  too  long " 

He  stopped,  for  he  remembered  that  he  had  al- 
ready said  that  once,  and  searched  for  other  words, 
but  could  not  find  any,  and,  unhappily,  repeated  the 
phrase  for  the  third  time. 

Marietta  almost  choked  with  laughter,  but  Dr. 
Volkmar  declared  politely  that  they  did  not  wish  to 
detain  him  any  longer,  and  begged  him  to  take  his 
regards  to  the  Chief  Forester  and  Fraulein  von 
Schonan. 

The  young  lord  scarcely  heard.  He  looked  for 
his  hat,  made  a  bow,  stammered  a  few  words  of 
adieu  and  ran  off  as  if  his  head  was  burning.  He 
had  but  one  thought — that  he  must  leave  as  quickly 
as  possible;  that  gay,  teasing  laugh  made  him 
crazy. 

When  Volkmar,  who  had  escorted  Willibald  to 
the  door,  returned,  his  granddaughter  was  wiping 


120  THE   SIGN   OF   FLAME. 

the  tears  from  her  eyes,  quite  overcome  with 
laughter. 

"I  believe  something  is  wrong  with  Toni's  be- 
trothed here,"  she  cried,  putting  a  delicate  ringer  to 
her  forehead.  "At  first  he  ran  behind  me,  mutely 
carrying  the  bag  like  a  fish  wife ;  then  he  seemed  to 
thaw  at  my  singing,  and  now  he  is  seized  with  an 
attack  of  something  and  runs  away  to  Furstenstein 
to  his  'mamma,'  so  quickly  that  I  could  not  even 
send  a  greeting  to  his  betrothed." 

The  doctor  smiled  a  little  plaintively.  He  had 
observed  closely  and  guessed  whence  came  this  sud- 
den change  of  manner  in  his  guest. 

"The  young  man  has  probably  not  had  much  in- 
tercourse with  ladies,"  he  said,  evasively;  "and  he 
seems  to  stand  somewhat  in  awe  of  his  mother,  but 
he  appears  to  please  his  fiancee  very  well,  and  that  is 
surely  the  most  important  thing." 

"Yes,  he  is  handsome,"  said  Marietta,  somewhat 
thoughtfully;  "even  very  handsome.  But  I  believe, 
grandpapa,  he  is  also  very  stupid." 

In  the  meantime  Willibald  had  run  like  a  storm  to 
the  next  corner,  where  he  came  to  a  standstill  and 
tried  to  collect  his  thoughts,  which  were  in  great 
confusion.  It  was  a  long  time  before  he  succeeded, 
but  he  looked  back  once  more  to  the  doctor's  house 
before  he  walked  on. 

What  would  his  mother  say  to  it  ?  She  who  had 
placed  the  whole  world  of  actresses  under  a  ban; 
and  she  was  right.  Willy  plainly  felt  that  some- 
thing bewitching  belonged  to  the  tribe;  one  had  to 
beware  of  them. 

But  what  if  this  Marietta  Volkmar  should  take  a 
notion  to  visit  her  friend  at  Furstenstein?  The 
young  lord  ought  to  have  been  horrified  at  the 


THE    SIGN    OF   FLAME.  121 

thought,  and  was  convinced  that  he  was  horrified; 
but  with  all  that  the  strange  flash  returned  to  his 
eyes.  He  suddenly  saw  in  the  reception  room,  at 
the  piano  where  Toni  had  been  a  little  while  ago,  a 
small,  delicate  figure,  whose  dark,  curly  head  moved 
to  and  fro  like  a  bird,  and  the  thunder  of  the  march 
changed  into  the  soft,  rippling  notes  of  the  old  carol, 
while  between  all  again  sounded  the  gay,  silvery 
laugh  which  also  was  music. 

And  all  this  loveliness  must  be  ruined  and  lost 
because  it  belonged  to  the  stage !  Frau  von  Eschen- 
hagen  had  often  expressed  such  an  opinion,  and 
Willibald  was  too  good  a  son  not  to  consider  her  an 
oracle.  But  he  heaved  a  deep  sigh,  and  murmured : 
"Oh,  what  a  pity ;  what  a  great  pity !" 


CHAPTER  XV. 

ABOUT  half  way  between  Furstenstein  and 
Rodeck,  where  the  forest  mountains  rose  to  their 
greatest  height,  lay  the  Hochberg,  a  popular  resort 
for  sight-seeing  on  account  of  its  magnificent  views. 
The  old  stone  tower  upon  its  summit,  the  last  rem- 
nant of  an  otherwise  totally  demolished  castle  ruin, 
had  been  made  an  object  of  interest,  and  at  its  foot 
nestled  a  little  inn,  which  entertained  numerous 
guests  from  the  neighborhood.  Strangers  did  not 
often  come  into  these  almost  unknown  forest  moun- 
tains and  valleys.  Visitors  of  any  sort  were  some- 
what rare  now  in  the  fall,  but  to-day's  beautiful 
weather  had  enticed  several  people  out  on  the  trip. 
Half  an  hour  ago  two  gentlemen  had  arrived  on 
horseback,  attended  by  a  groom,  and  now  a  carriage, 
bringing  more  sight-seers,  drove  up  to  the  inn. 

Upon  the  flat  roof  of  the  tower,  near  the  stone 
breastwork,  stood  the  two  gentlemen,  the  younger 
one  zealously  occupied  in  pointing  out  and  explain- 
ing the  various  points  of  interest. 

"Yes,  our  Hochberg  is  renowned  for  its  views." 
he  said.  "I  was  obliged  to  show  them  to  you,  Hart- 
mut.  Is  not  the  view  over  this  wide,  green  forest 
ocean  incomparable?" 

Hartmut  did  not  answer ;  he  seemed  to  be  looking 
through  the  glass  for  some  distant  point. 

"Where  is  Furstenstein?     Ah,  there.     It  seeir.s 

to  be  an  enormous  old  structure." 

122 


THE    SIGN   OF   FLAME.  123 

"Yes,  the  castle  is  worth  seeing,"  assented  Prince 
Adelsberg.  "But,  outside  of  that,  you  were  wise  to 
remain  at  home  the  other  day ;  I  was  bored  to  death 
by  the  visit." 

"So?  You  seemed  to  think  a  great  deal  of  the 
Chief  Forester." 

"Certainly,  I  like  to  chat  with  him;  but  he  had 
driven  out  and  returned  only  just  before  I  left.  His 
son  is  not  at  Furstenstein.  He  is  studying  at  the 
school  for  foresters,  so  I  had  to  wait  upon  Fraulein 
von  Schonan ;  but  that  pleasure  was  not  exactly  in- 
teresting. A  word  every  five  minutes  and  a  minute 
to  every  word.  Very  many  domestic  virtues,  but 
very  little  behind  the  forehead.  I  kept  the  conver- 
sation going  by  the  sweat  of  my  brow,  and  then  had 
the  honor  of  meeting  the  betrothed  of  the  Baroness 
— a  genuine,  undiluted  country  squire,  with  a  very 
energetic  mamma,  who  has  him  and  the  future 
daughter-in-law  under  complete  control.  We  had 
an  exceedingly  brilliant  conversation,  finally  landing 
on  turnip  culture,  in  which  I  was  thoroughly  in- 
structed. The  visit  was  bearable  only  when  the 
Chief  Forester  returned  with  his  brother-in-law,  the 
Baron  Wallmoden." 

Rojanow  still  held  the  glass  directed  upon  Fur- 
stenstein, listening,  apparently,  indifferently.  Now 
he  repeated  questioningly :  "Wallmoden?" 

"The  new  Prussian  Ambassador  to  our  court,  a 
genuine  diplomat  in  appearance;  aristocratic,  cool 
and  buttoned  up  to  the  chin ;  also  having  very  agree- 
able manners.  Her  Excellency,  the  Frau  Baroness, 
was  not  visible,  which  I  bore  with  composure,  since 
the  husband  already  has  gray  hair,  and  consequently 
the  lady  would  probably  be  of  an  age  which  one  ap- 
proaches only  with  veneration," 


124  THE    SIGN   OF   FLAME. 

A  peculiarly  bitter  expression  played  around 
Hartmut's  lips  as  he  now  lowered  the  glass. 

He  had  kept  his  encounter  with  Frau  von  Wall- 
moden  from  his  friend.  Why  mention  the  name? 
He  wished  to  be  reminded  of  it  as  little  as  possible. 

"But  our  romantic  forest  solitude  will  soon  be 
ended,"  continued  Egon.  "I  heard  from  the  Chief 
Forester  that  the  court  will  come  to  Furstenstein 
this  year  for  the  hunting  season,  and  I  can  then  ex- 
pect a  visit  from  the  Duke.  I  am  not  very  delighted 
at  the  prospect,  for  my  highly  honored  uncle  has  a 
habit  of  holding  forth  to  me  just  as  frequent  and 
just  as  impressive  moral  sermons  as  Stadinger,  and 
I  must  naturally  keep  the  peace  then.  But  I  shall 
present  you  at  this  visit,  Hartmut.  You  consent?" 

"If  you  consider  it  necessary,  and  the  etiquette  of 
your  court  allows " 

"Bah!  the  etiquette  is  not  so  strictly  adhered  to 
with  us.  Besides,  the  Rojanows  belong  to  the  no- 
bility of  your  country,  do  they  not?" 

"Certainly." 

"Well.  then,  you  are  in  every  case  entitled  to  the 
presentation.  I  consider  it  by  all  means  desirable, 
for  I  have  set  my  mind  on  seeing  your  'Arivana'  at 
our  Court  Theatre ;  and  as  soon  as  the  Duke  knows 
you  and  your  work,  that  will  be  done  beyond  a 
doubt." 

The  words  betrayed  the  passionate  admiration  the 
young  Prince  felt  for  his  friend ;  but  the  latter  only 
shrugged  his  shoulders  slightly. 

"Possibly,  particularly  if  you  plead  for  me;  but  I 
do  not  like  to  succeed  under  protection.  I  am  no 
poet  of  renown.  Indeed,  I'm  not  sure  whether  I 
am  a  poet ;  and  if  my  work  cannot  smooth  a  way  for 
itself " 


THE    SIGN    OF    FLAME.  125 

"You  would  be  obstinate  enough  to  keep  it  from 
publicity;  that  is  like  you.  Have  you  no  ambition 
at  all?" 

"Perhaps  only  too  much,  and  from  that  arises 
originally  what  you  call  my  obstinacy.  I  never 
could  bow  down  and  subordinate  myself  in  life.  I 
could  not ;  my  whole  nature  rose  against  it,  and  I  am 
not  at  all  suited  to  the  ways  of  your  court." 

"Who  told  you  that?"  laughed  Egon.  "They 
will  flatter  and  spoil  you  there,  just  like  everywhere 
else.  It  is  your  nature  to  rise  everywhere  like  a 
meteor,  and  one  does  not  expect  these  stars  to  travel 
in  old  routes.  Besides,  you  have  from  the  start  the 
exceptional  position  of  guest  and  foreigner,  and 
when  you  are  once  summoned  by  the  halo  of  poesy, 
then " 

"Then  it  is  with  that  you  intend  to  keep  me  here 
in  your  country?" 

"Well,  then,  yes.  I  do  not  think  that  I  alone 
possess  the  power  to  keep  you  here  permanently,  you 
wild,  restless  guest ;  but  a  rising  poet's  name  is  a  fet- 
ter which  one  does  not  slip  off  so  easily,  and  I  have 
sworn  to  myself  since  this  morning  not  to  let  you  go 
again  at  any  price." 

Rojanow  started  and  looked  at  him  inquiringly. 

"Why  just  since  this  morning?" 

"That  is  my  secret  for  the  present,"  said  Egon, 
jestingly. 

"Ah,  more  guests  are  coming  here,  it  seems." 

A  step  was  heard  upon  the  narrow,  winding  stone 
stairs,  and  the  bearded  face  of  the  tower  watch- 
man appeared  at  the  opening  which  led  to  the 
platform. 

"Please  take  care,  gracious  lady,"  he  said,  warn- 
ingly,  looking  back  with  concern;  "the  last  steps  are 


126  THE    SIGN    OF   FLAME. 

very  steep  and  much  worn.  So,  now  we  are  at  the 
top." 

He  offered  a  helping  hand  to  the  lady  who  fol- 
lowed him,  but  she  did  not  need  it,  ascending  easily 
with  effort. 

"What  a  beautiful  girl !"  whispered  Prince  Adels- 
berg  to  his  friend,  who,  instead  of  replying,  made  a 
deep  and  formal  bow  before  the  lady.  She  could 
not  conceal  a  certain  surprise  at  the  sight  of  him. 
"Ah,  Herr  Rojanow,  you  here?" 

"I  am  admiring  the  view  from  the  Hochberg, 
which  may  also  have  attracted  you,  Your  Excel- 
lency." 

The  face  of  the  Prince  betrayed  boundless  aston- 
ishment when  the  "beautiful  girl"  was  called  "Ex- 
cellency," and  when  he  saw  that  she  was  not  a 
stranger  to  his  friend.  He  speedily  drew  near  for 
an  introduction  to  this  acquaintance,  and  Hartmut 
could  not  avoid  presenting  the  Prince  Adelsberg  to 
the  Baroness  Wallmoden. 

He  touched  upon  the  forest  encounter  very 
lightly,  for  the  lady  found  it  convenient  to-day  to 
enshroud  herself  in  her  haughty  reserve.  It  was 
hardly  necessary,  for  Rojanow  observed  the  strictest 
reticence.  Both  seemed  decided  to  treat  the  ac- 
quaintance as  a  very  slight  and  formal  one. 

Egon  had  thrown  a  glance  of  the  liveliest  re- 
proach upon  his  friend.  He  could  not  understand 
how  Hartmut  could  have  kept  such  a  meeting  to 
himself;  but,  after  that,  he  cast  himself  with  ardor 
into  the  conversation.  He  announced  himself  a 
neighbor,  mentioned  his  recent  call  at  Furstenstein, 
and  expressed  his  regret  at  having  missed  Frau  von 
Wallmoden  at  that  time.  A  conversation  was  com- 
menced, in  which  the  Prince  exhibited  his  amiability 


THE    SIGN    OF   FLAME.  127 

and  vivacity,  while  retaining  the  reserve  of  eti- 
quette. He  knew  from  the  beginning  that  he  stood 
before  the  wife  of  the  Ambassador,  whom  one  could 
not  approach  with  a  bold  compliment,  as  Hartmut 
had  ventured. 

Finally  his  happy,  unaffected  good  humor  suc- 
ceeded in  diminishing  the  icy  atmosphere  which  sur- 
rounded the  beautiful  woman,  and  he  had  the  good 
fortune  of  being  permitted  to  show  and  explain  to 
her  the  surrounding  country. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

HARTMUT  did  not  join  in  the  conversation  with 
his  usual  vivacity,  and  when  he  again  drew  out  the 
glass  from  his  pocket,  at  the  Prince's  request,  he 
suddenly  missed  his  letter-case. 

The  watchman  offered  at  once  to  look  for  it,  but 
Rojanow  declared  he  would  do  it  himself.  He  re- 
membered exactly  the  place  where  something  had 
slipped  to  the  floor  when  he  came  up  the  stairs, 
which  he  had  not  noticed  at  the  time.  It  was  the 
letter-case,  no  doubt,  and  he  would  find  it  with  little 
trouble  and  return.  Saying  which,  he  bowed  and 
departed. 

Under  other  circumstances  Egon  would  doubtless 
have  thought  it  strange  that  his  friend  should  refuse 
the  offer  of  the  old  man  and  take  upon  himself  the 
trouble  of  searching  the  dark  stairway,  but  he  was 
at  present  so  totally  occupied  with  his  office  of  ex- 
planatory exhibitor  that  he  did  not  seem  to  regret 
being  left  alone. 

Frau  von  Wallmoden  had  accepted  the  glass 
which  he  offered  her  and  followed  with  apparent  at- 
tention his  explanations  as  he  pointed  out  all  the 
various  heights  and  villages. 

"And  over  yonder,  behind  those  hills,  lies  Ro- 
deck,"  he  concluded ;  "the  little  hunting  lodge  where 
we  live  like  two  hermits,  cut  off  from  all  the  world, 
having  only  the  company  of  monkeys  and  parrots, 
which  we  brought  from  the  Orient,  and  which  have 

already  become  quite  melancholy." 

\m 


THE    SIGN   OF   FLAME.  129 

"You  do  not  look  at  all  like  a  hermit,  Your  High- 
ness," said  the  young  Baroness,  with  a  fleeting 
smile. 

"In  truth,  I  have  not  much  taste  for  it;  but  at 
times  Hartmut  has  perfect  attacks  of  the  ailment, 
and  then  I  bury  myself  in  solitude  for  weeks  for  his 
pleasure." 

"Hartmut!  That  is  a  thoroughly  German  name, 
and  it  is  also  surprising  that  Herr  Rojanow  speaks 
German  with  such  fluency  and  without  even  a  for- 
eign intonation.  Yet  he  introduced  himself  to  me 
as  a  foreigner." 

"Certainly.  He  comes  from  Roumania,  but  was 
raised  by  relatives  in  Germany,  from  whom  also  he 
may  have  inherited  the  German  name,"  said  the 
Prince,  simply. 

It  was  plainly  to  be  seen  that  he  knew  nothing 
further  of  the  origin  of  his. friend.  "I  became  ac- 
quainted with  him  at  Paris,  when  I  was  about  to 
begin  my  trip  to  the  East,  and  he  decided  to  accom- 
pany me.  It  was  my  good  star  of  fortune  that 
brought  him  to  me." 

"You  seem  infatuated  with  your  friend." 

There  was  something  like  disapprobation  in  the 
tone. 

"Yes,  Your  Excellency,  I  am  indeed,"  affirmed 
Egon,  warmly ;  "and  not  I  alone.  Hartmut  is  one  of 
those  genial  natures  who  conquers  and  wins  people 
by  storm  wherever  he  appears.  You  should  see  and 
hear  him  when  he  is  heart  and  soul  enthusiastic. 
Then  his  soul  flames  like  fire  into  yours.  He  en- 
velops everything  with  his  warmth ;  one  has  to  fol- 
low where  his  flight  leads." 

The  enthusiastic  eulogy  found  a  very  cool  listener. 
The  young  lady  seemed  to  bend  all  he.r  attention 


130  THE    SIGN   OF   FLAME. 

upon  the  landscape,  as  she  replied:  "You  may  be 
correct.  Herr  Rojanow's  eyes  betray  something  of 
it,  but  such  fiery  natures  make  upon  me  an  impres- 
sion more  uncanny  than  sympathetic." 

"Perhaps  because  they  bear  the  demoniac  lines 
which  are  peculiar  to  genius.  Hartmut  has  them. 
He  startles  me  sometimes,  and  yet  the  dark  depths 
of  his  nature  draw  me  irresistibly  to  him.  I  have 
actually  forgotten  how  to  live  without  him  and  shall 
try  everything  to  retain  him  in  our  country." 

"In  Germany?  You  will  hardly  succeed  in  that, 
Your  Highness.  Herr  Rojanow  has  a  poor  opinion 
of  our  fatherland.  He  betrayed  that  to  me  the  day 
before  yesterday  in  rather  an  offensive  way." 

The  Prince  became  attentive.  The  words  at  once 
explained  the  cold  reserve,  which  was  not  usually 
Hartmut's  manner  toward  a  beautiful  woman,  and 
which  had  surprised  him  at  the  first  moment.  But 
he  smiled. 

"Ah,  that  was  the  reason  why  he  did  not  speak  of 
the  encounter.  Your  Excellency  has  probably 
shown  him  your  displeasure.  It  serves  him  right. 
Why  does  he  prevaricate  with  such  persistency? 
He  has  irritated  me  often  enough  with  this  assumed 
depreciation,  which  I  accepted  then  in  good  faith; 
but  I  know  better  now." 

"You  do  not  believe  in  it?"  Adelaide  suddenly 
turned  from  the  view  to  the  speaker. 

"No,  I  have  the  proof  of  it  in  my  hands.  He  is 
infatuated  with  our  German  land.  You  look  at  me 
incredulously,  Your  Excellency.  May  I  impart  a 
secret  to  you?" 

"Well?" 

"I  was  looking  for  Hartmut  this  morning  in  his 
room,  but  did  not  find  him,  I  found,  instead,  a 


SIGN"   OF   FLAME.  131 

poem  upon  his  desk,  which  he  had  probably  forgot- 
ten to  lock  up,  for  it  was  surely  not  intended  for  my 
eyes.  I  stole  it,  without  any  compunction  of  con- 
science, and  carry  the  spoils  still  with  me.  Will  you 
permit  me  to  read  it  ?" 

"I  do  not  understand  the  Roumanian  language," 
said  Frau  von  Wallmoden,  with  cool  satire.  "Herr 
Rojanow  has  scarcely  condescended  to  compose  a 
poem  in  German." 

Instead  of  answering,  Egon  drew  out  the  paper 
and  opened  it.  "You  are  prejudiced  against  my 
friend ;  I  see  it.  But  I  do  not  like  you  to  regard  him 
in  the  wrong  light  in  which  he  has  placed  himself. 
May  I  justify  him  with  his  own  words?" 

"If  you  please." 

The  words  sounded  indifferent,  and  yet  Adelaide's 
gaze  was  riveted  with  a  strange  expectancy  upon  the 
paper,  which  seemed  to  contain  only  a  few  hastily 
written  stanzas.  Egon  read. 

They  were  German  verses,  indeed ;  but  of  a  per- 
fection and  harmony  which  could  belong  only  to  a 
master  of  the  language.  The  pictures  they  conjured 
up  before  the  listener  were  strangely  familiar. 
Deep,  dreamy  forest  solitude,  touched  by  the  first 
breath  of  approaching  autumn ;  endless  green  depths 
which  beckoned  and  charmed  irresistibly  with  their 
twilight  shadows;  aromatic  meadows  flooded  with 
sunlight;  small,  still  waters,  which  gleamed  in  the 
distance,  and  the  foaming  forest  brook  roaring 
down  from  the  heights. 

And  this  picture  had  taken  on  life  and  language. 
That  which  whispered  in  it  was  the  old,  old  song  of 
the  forest  itself;  its  murmuring  and  rustling — its 
mysterious  working  gathered  into  words  which  en- 
chanted the  ear  of  the  listener  like  melody,  while 


132  THE    SIGN   OF   FLAME. 

through  it  all  floated  and  moaned  a  deep,  unspeak- 
able longing  for  this  forest  peace. 

The  Prince  read  warmly  at  first,  then  with  great 
enthusiasm.  Now  he  dropped  the  sheet  and  asked 
triumphantly : 

"Well?" 

The  young  Baroness  had  listened  spellbound. 
She  did  not  look  at  the  reader,  but  stared  motionless 
into  the  blue  distance.  At  the  question  she  started 
slightly  and  hastily  turned. 

"What  did  you  say,  Your  Highness?" 

"Is  this  the  language  of  a  depredator  of  our 
fatherland?  I  believe  not,"  said  Egon  in  most  de- 
cided tones,  but  greatly  as  he  was  engrossed  with 
his  friend's  poetry,  he  could  still  notice  how  excep- 
tionally beautiful  Frau  von  Wallmoden  looked  at 
this  moment. 

Of  course,  it  must  have  been  the  setting  sun  which 
lent  the  rosy  coloring  to  her  face  and  the  brilliancy 
to  her  eyes,  for  her  bearing  was  as  cold  as  her 
answer. 

"It  is  really  surprising  that  a  foreigner  should 
command  the  German  language  so  perfectly." 

Egon  looked  at  her  in  amazement.  Was  this  all  ? 
He  had  expected  a  different  impression.  "And 
what  do  you  think  of  the  poem  itself?"  he  asked. 

"Quite  excellent.  Herr  Rojanow  seems  indeed 
to  possess  much  poetic  talent.  But  here  is  your 
glass,  Your  Highness.  I  thank  you.  I  must  be 
thinking  of  the  descent  now,  as  I  do  not  wish  to  keep 
my  husband  waiting  too  long." 

Egon  folded  up  the  paper  slowly  and  deposited  it 
in  his  breast  pocket.  He  felt  the  icy  breath  now 
surround  again  the  beautiful  woman,  which  chilled 
him  to  the  heart. 


THE    SIGN   OF   FLAME.  133 

"I  already  have  the  honor  of  an  acquaintance  with 
His  Excellency,"  he  said.  "May  I  renew  it  to- 
day?" 

A  slight  bow  gave  the  permission  to  accompany 
her.  They  left  the  platform,  but  the  Prince  had 
grown  somewhat  monosyllabic.  He  felt  offended 
for  his  friend,  and  now  regretted  having  given  this 
poetry,  the  beauty  of  which  carried  him  away,  to  a 
lady  who  had  no  understanding  of,  nor  appreciation 
whatever  for,  poetry. 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

HARTMUT  descended  the  stairs  slowly  after  his 
leave-taking,  the  lost  letter-case  resting  safely  in  its 
usual  place.  It  had  served  its  purpose  as  a  pretext 
to  free  its  possessor  a  little  while. 

Adelaide  von  Wallmoden  had  casually  mentioned 
having  come  with  her  husband,  who  remained  down 
at  the  inn  because  he  disliked  the  troublesome  climb- 
ing of  the  steep  stairs. 

Hartmut  could  not  therefore  evade  a  meeting 
with  him,  but  it  should  at  least  take  place  without 
witnesses.  If  Wallmoden  should  recognize  the  son 
of  his  friend,  whom  he  had  known  only  as  a  boy,  he 
might  not  be  able  to  master  his  surprise. 

Hartmut  did  not  fear  this  meeting,  even  if  it  were 
inconvenient  and  uncomfortable  to  him.  There  was 
but  one  face  in  the  whole  world  he  feared — only  one 
face  to  which  he  would  not  dare  lift  his  eyes — and 
that  face  was  far  away;  probably  he  would  never 
see  it  again.  Every  one  else  he  met  with  the  proud 
defiance  ol  a  man  who  had  only  done  right  in  with- 
drawing from  a  hated  vocation. 

He  was  decided  upon  not  permitting  any  expres- 
sion of  reproach,  but,  if  he  should  be  recognized,  to 
request  the  Ambassador  in  the  most  decided  manner 
to  consider  certain  old  connections,  with  which  he 
had  so  totally  broken,  as  no  longer  existing.  With 
this  conclusion  he  emerged  into  the  open  air. 

Herbert  Wallmoden  sat  with  his  sister  upon  the 

134 


THE    SIGN   OF   FLAME.  135 

little  veranda  of  the  inn.  The  Chief  Forester  had 
been  too  much  occupied  with  the  approaching  ar- 
rival of  the  court,  the  hunting  expeditions  of  which 
he  had  to  arrange,  to  accompany  the  party.  The 
betrothed  couple  had  also  remained  at  home ;  but  the 
day  for  the  little  trip  could  not  have  been  more 
pleasant. 

"This  Hochberg  is  really  worth  seeing,"  said 
Frau  von  Eschenhagen,  her  eyes  roaming  over  the 
country.  "We  have  almost  the  same  view  here  as 
upon  the  top  of  the  tower.  Why  climb  and  over- 
heat oneself  and  lose  one's  breath  on  those  never- 
ending  steps?" 

"Adelaide  was  of  a  different  opinion,"  replied 
Wallmoden,  with  a  casual  glance  at  the  tower. 
"She  does  not  know  fatigue  nor  how  to  get  over- 
heated." 

"And  also  how  not  to  catch  cold.  She  proved 
that  the  day  before  yesterday,  when  she  came  home 
drenched  through.  She  did  not  catch  the  least 
cold." 

"Nevertheless,  I  have  requested  her  to  take  an 
escort  for  her  future  walks,"  said  the  Ambassador, 
calmly.  "To  get  lost  in  the  forest,  wade  a  creek, 
and  be  guided  to  the  right  path  by  the  first  hunter 
one  comes  across  are  things  which  must  not  occur 
again.  Adelaide  agreed  with  me  and  promised  im- 
mediately to  obey  my  wishes." 

"Yes,  she  is  a  sensible  woman,  a  thoroughly 
healthy  nature  from  which  anything  romantic  or 
adventurous  is  far  removed,"  complimented  Regine. 
"But  there  seem  to  be  more  visitors  upon  the  tower. 
I  thought  we  should  be  the  only  guests  to-day." 

Wallmoden  looked  indifferently  at  the  tall,  slen- 
der gentleman  who  now  emerged  from  the  small 


136  THE    SIGN   OF   FLAME. 

tower  door  and  walked  toward  the  inn.  Frau  von 
Eschenhagen  also  looked  at  him  carelessly ;  but  sud- 
denly her  glance  grew  keener,  and  she  started. 

"Herbert— look!" 

"Where?" 

"That  stranger  there.  What  a  strange  resem- 
blance!" 

"To  whom?"  asked  Herbert,  growing  more  at- 
tentive and  looking  sharply  at  the  stranger. 

"To — impossible!  That  is  not  only  a  resem- 
blance. It  is  he  himself." 

She  sprang  up,  pale  with  excitement,  and  her  look 
fastened  itself  upon  the  features  of  the  man  just 
now  putting  his  foot  upon  the  first  step  of  the 
veranda.  She  met  his  eyes,  those  dark,  glowing 
eyes,  which  had  so  often  shone  upon  her  from  the 
face  of  the  boy,  and  the  last  doubt  disappeared. 

"Hartmut — Hartmut  Falkenried — you " 

She  was  suddenly  silenced  by  Wallmoden's  lay- 
ing his  hand  heavily  upon  her  arm  and  saying 
slowly,  but  with  emphasis:  "You  are  mistaken, 
Regine.  We  do  not  know  this  gentleman." 

Hartmut  stopped  short  when  he  caught  sight  of 
Frau  von  Eschenhagen,  who  had  been  hidden  by  the 
foliage.  He  was  not  prepared  for  her  presence. 
At  the  moment  he  recognized  her  the  words  of  the 
Ambassador  reached  his  ear.  He  knew  that  icy 
tone  only  too  well ;  it  forced  the  blood  to  his  brow. 

"Herbert!"  Regine  looked  doubtingly  at  her 
brother,  who  still  held  her  by  the  arm. 

"We  do  not  know  him,"  he  repeated  in  the  same 
tone. 

"Is  it  possible  that  I  have  to  tell  you  that, 
Regine?" 

She  understood  now  his  meaning.     With  a  half 


THE    SIGN    OF    FLAME.  137 

threatening,  half  painful  glance,  she  turned  her  back 
upon  the  son  of  her  friend  and  said,  with  deep  bit- 
terness : 

"You  are  right.     I  was  mistaken." 

Hartmut  started,  and  in  rising  anger  he  drew  a 
step  nearer. 

"Herr  von  Wallmoden !" 

"Did  you  speak  to  me?"  The  tone  was  as  sting- 
ing and  scornful  as  before. 

"You  have  anticipated  my  wishes,  Your  Excel- 
lency," said  Hartmut,  forcing  himself  to  be  calm. 
"I  wished  to  ask  you  not  to  recognize  me.  We  are 
strangers  to  each  other." 

He  turned  and  walked  off  defiantly,  tall  and  erect, 
and  entered  the  house  by  another  door. 

Wallmoden  looked  after  him  with  darkened  brow. 
Then  he  turned  to  his  sister. 

"Could  you  not  control  yourself  better,  Regine? 
Why  have  a  scene  at  such  a  meeting?  This  Hart- 
mut does  not  exist  any  longer  for  us." 

Regine's  face  betrayed  only  too  well  how  much 
this  encounter  had  shocked  her.  Her  lips  still 
quivered  as  she  replied : 

"I  am  no  practiced  diplomat  like  you,  Herbert.  I 
have  not  learned  to  be  still  when  one  whom  I 
thought  dead  or  ruined  suddenly  appears  before 
me." 

"Dead  ?  that  was  hardly  to  be  expected  at  his  age. 
Ruined,  corrupted?  that  might  be  nearer  it.  His 
life  up  to  the  present  moment  has  lain  in  that  di- 
rection." 

"Do  you  know  about  it  ?"  Frau  von  Eschenhagen 
started  with  surprise.  "Do  you  know  of  his  life?" 

"Partly.  Falkenried  was  too  much  my  friend  for 
me  not  to  investigate  what  became  of  his  son.  Of 


138  THE   SIGN    OF   FLAME. 

course,  I  was  silent  to  him  as  well  as  you  concerning 
it;  but  as  soon  as  I  had  returned  to  my  office  that 
time,  I  used  our  diplomatic  relations,  which  reach 
everywhere,  to  inquire  about  it." 

"Well,  what  did  you  learn?" 

"Principally  only  that  which  was  to  be  expected. 
Zalika  had  turned  her  steps  directly  homeward  with 
her  son.  You  know  that  her  stepfather — our  cousin 
Wallmoden — was  already  dead  when  she  returned 
to  her  mother  after  the  divorce.  The  connections 
on  our  side  were  thereby  broken  off,  but  I  learned 
that  shortly  before  Zalika's  reappearance  in  Ger- 
many she  had  come  into  the  possession  of  the  Roja- 
now  estates." 

"Zalika?     Did  she  not  have  a  brother?" 

"Yes,  he  had  charge  of  the  estates  for  ten  years, 
but  died,  unmarried,  from  an  accident  while  hunt- 
ing, and,  since  his  mother's  second  marriage  had  re- 
sulted in  no  descendant,  Zalika  entered  now  upon 
the  inheritance — at  least  in  name — for  through  the 
reckless  management  of  the  Bojar,  the  most  of  it 
belonged  to  the  Jews.  Nevertheless,  she  now  felt 
herself  master,  and  planned  the  coup  of  getting  pos- 
session of  her  son.  The  old,  wild  life  was  then  con- 
tinued upon  the  estates  for  a  few  years,  with  sense- 
less management,  until  everything  was  gone.  Then 
mother  and  son,  like  a  couple  of  gypsies,  went  out 
into  the  wide  world." 

Wallmoden  narrated  this  with  the  same  cold  con- 
tempt which  he  had  shown  to  Hartmut,  and  the 
same  horror  and  aversion  were  pictured  in  the  face 
of  his  sister — that  strictly  duteous  and  moral  lady. 
Nevertheless,  a  certain  degree  of  sympathy  was  in 
her  voice  as  she  asked:  "And  you  have  not  heard 
anything  of  them  since?" 


THE    SIGN   OF   FLAME.  139 

"Yes,  several  times.  A  casual  mention  of  the 
name  led  me  to  the  track.  While  I  was  at  the  em- 
bassy at  Florence,  they  were  in  Rome;  a  few  years 
later  they  appeared  in  Paris,  and  there  I  heard  of 
the  death  of  Frau  Zalika  Rojanow." 

"So  she  is  dead,"  said  Frau  von  Eschenhagen,  in 
a  low  voice.  "What  do  you  think  they  have  lived 
on  all  these  years?" 

Wallmoden  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"What  do  all  adventurers  who  wander  homeless 
over  the  world  live  on?  They  may  perhaps  have 
saved  something  from  the  wreck,  perhaps  not.  At 
any  rate,  they  visited  all  the  salons  in  Paris  and 
Rome.  A  woman  like  Zalika  finds  help  and  protec- 
tion everywhere.  She  had  the  title  of  nobility  as 
daughter  of  a  Bojar,  and  the  forced  sale  of  the  Rou- 
mania  property  was  probably  not  known,  so  it  played 
a  prominent  part  in  their  success.  Society  opens  its 
doors  only  too  quickly  to  this  element  if  it  knows 
how  to  keep  up  appearances,  which  seems  to  have 
been  the  case  here.  By  what  means,  that,  of  course, 
is  another  question." 

"But  Hartmut,  whom  she  forcibly  carried  into 
such  a  life — what  of  him?" 

"An  adventurer — what  else?"  said  the  Ambassa- 
dor, with  intense  harshness.  "He  always  had  an  in- 
clination that  way;  he  will  have  developed  finely  in 
such  a  school.  I  have  not  heard  anything  of  him 
since  the  death  of  his  mother,  three  years  ago." 

"And  you  kept  it  a  secret  from  me  ?"  said  Regine, 
reproachfully. 

"I  wished  to  spare  you.  You  had  taken  this 
scoundrel  —  this  Hartmut  —  too  much  into  your 
heart.  I  was  afraid  you  might  be  carried  away  in  a 
hint  to  Falkenried," 


140  -THE   SIGN   OF   FLAME. 

"You  took  unnecessary  pains.  I  have  ventured 
but  once  to  speak  of  the  past  to  Falkenried.  He 
looked  at  me — I  shall  never  forget  that  look — and 
said,  with  an  awful  expression:  'My  son  is  dead — 
you  know  that,  Regine.  Let  the  dead  rest!'  I 
shall  certainly  not  mention  that  name  to  him  again." 

"Then  I  do  not  need  to  caution  you  when  you 
return  home,"  replied  Wallmoden.  "But  you  ought 
not  to  speak  of  it  to  Willibald,  either.  His  good 
nature  might  play  him  a  trick  when  he  learns  that 
his  once  great  friend  lives  in  the  neighborhood.  It 
is  best  for  him  to  hear  nothing  of  it.  I  shall  cer- 
tainly ignore  this  gentleman  at  a  possible  second 
meeting,  and  Adelaide  does  not  know  him  at  all. 
She  does  not  even  know  that  Falkenried  had  a 
son." 

He  broke  off  and  arose,  for  his  young  wife  now 
appeared  in  the  door  of  the  tower. 

Prince  Adelsberg  renewed  the  acquaintance  of 
yesterday  and  inquired  innocently  if  his  friend, 
Rojanow,  had  passed  by  here.  He  could  not  ex- 
plain his  absence. 

A  glance  from  Wallmoden  warned  his  sister,  who 
was  proof  this  time  against  surprise.  Wallmoden 
himself  regretted  not  having  seen  the  gentleman, 
and  said  that  he  was  just  about  to  leave  with  his 
wife  and  sister,  having  only  awaited  the  former's 
return.  The  order  for  the  carriage  was  given  at 
once,  to  which  Egon  accompanied  them,  taking  leave 
of  them  with  a  deep  bow,  but  following  the  carriage 
with  attentive  eyes. 

Hartmut  stood  alone  at  a  window  of  the  inn,  also 
observing  the  departure.  The  same  ashy  paleness 
again  overspread  his  face,  which  had  gleamed  there 
at  the  first  mention  of  the  name  of  Wallmoden ;  but 


THE    SIGN    OF   FLAME.  141 

now  it  was  the  whiteness  of  a  wild  anger  which  al- 
most shocked  him. 

He  had  expected  questions  and  reproaches,  which, 
of  course,  he  had  intended  to  refute  haughtily;  but 
was  met  instead  with  a  complete  ignoring,  which 
was  a  deadly  insult  to  his  pride.  Wallmoden's  harsh 
warning  to  his  sister,  "We  do  not  know  him — have 
I  to  remind  you  of  that  ?"  had  wrought  up  his  whole 
being.  He  felt  the  annihilation  contained  in  it. 
And  the  woman,  who  had  always  shown  him  a 
mother's  love — even  Frau  von  Eschenhagen — had 
joined  her  brother  in  turning  her  back  upon  him,  as 
upon  a  person  one  is  ashamed  to  have  once  known. 
This  was  too  much. 

"Well,  here  you  are!"  Egon's  voice  came  from 
the  door.  "You  disappeared  as  if  the  earth  had 
swallowed  you.  Has  the  unlucky  letter-case  been 
found?" 

Rojanow  turned.  He  was  obliged  to  recall  the 
pretext  he  had  used. 

"Yes,  indeed,"  he  answered  absently,  "it  lay  upon 
the  stairs." 

"Well,  the  guide  would  have  found  it  just  as  well. 
Why  did  you  not  come  back  ?  Very  polite  of  you  to 
leave  Frau  von  Wallmoden  and  me  without  cere- 
mony. You  have  not  even  taken  leave  of  the  lady. 
His  Excellency's  highest  displeasure  is  sure  to  fall 
upon  you." 

"I  shall  know  how  to  bear  the  misfortune,"  said 
Hartmut,  shrugging  his  shoulders. 

The  Prince  drew  near  and  laid  his  hand  jestingly 
upon  his  friend's  shoulder. 

"So?  It  is  probably  because  you  fell  into  dis- 
grace yesterday.  It  is  not  your  usual  way  to  run 
off  where  the  entertainment  of  a  beautiful  lady  is 


143  THE    SIGN    OF   FLAME, 

concerned.  Oh,  I  know  all  about  it.  Her  Excel- 
lency has  given  you  a  lecture  over  your  loving  ti- 
rades against  Germany,  and  the  spoiled  favorite  has 
been  offended.  Why,  one  could  afford  to  be  told 
the  truth  by  such  lips." 

"You  seem  to  be  quite  transported,"  sneered  Hart- 
mut.  "Beware  lest  the  husband  be  not  jealous  in 
spite  of  his  years." 

"It  is  a  strange  couple,"  said  Egon  musingly,  as  if 
lost  in  thought;  "that  old  diplomat,  with  his  gray 
hair  and  immovable  face,  and  his  young  wife  with 
her  brilliant  beauty  like " 

"An  aurora  which  rises  from  a  sea  of  ice.  It  is 
only  a  question  of  which  stood  furthest  below  zero." 

The  young  Prince  laughed  heartily.  "Very  poet- 
ical and  very  malicious ;  but  you  are  not  far  wrong. 
I  have  also  felt  something  of  this  polar  breath  touch- 
ing me  chillingly  several  times ;  but  that  is  my  luck. 
Otherwise  I  would  fall  hopelessly  in  love  with  the 
beautiful  Excellency.  But  I  think  it  is  time  for  us 
to  leave,  nicht  ivahr?" 

He  went  to  the  door  to  call  the  groom.  Hartmut 
following,  threw  one  more  glance  out  to  where, 
through  an  opening  in  the  forest,  the  Ambassador's 
carriage  was  again  visible,  and  his  hands  clinched 
involuntarily. 

"We  shall  speak  yet,  Herr  Wallmoden,"  he  mut- 
tered. "I  shall  remain  now.  He  shall  not  think 
that  I  fly  from  his  presence.  I  shall  allow  Egon  to 
present  me  at  court,  and  exert  my  utmost  to  make 
my  work  a  success.  We  shall  see  then  if  he  dares 
treat  me  like  a  first-class  adventurer.  He  shall  pay 
for  that  tone  and  look !" 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

EVERYTHING  at  Furstenstein  was  in  a  state  of 
preparation  for  the  arrival  of  the  Court.  Their  stay 
was  to  be  of  longer  duration  than  for  a  short  hunt- 
ing expedition;  they  were  to  remain  several  weeks, 
for  which  time  the  Duchess  also  was  expected.  The 
upper  stories  of  the  castle,  with  their  numerous 
suites  of  rooms,  were  being  aired  and  put  in  order. 
A  portion  of  the  court  officials  and  servants  had  al- 
ready arrived.  Extensive  and  festive  preparations 
were  also  being  made  in  Waldhofen,  through  which 
the  Court  was  to  pass  on  its  way  to  the  castle. 

Wallmoden's  stay,  which,  under  ordinary  circum- 
stances, would  have  been  short,  was  prolonged.  The 
Duke,  who  was  pleased  to  distinguish  the  Ambas- 
sador in  every  way,  had  heard  of  his  attending  a 
family  fete  at  Furstenstein,  and  had  expressed  a 
wish  to  find  him  and  his  wife  still  there.  The  in- 
vitation was  equivalent  to  a  command  which  had  to 
be  obeyed. 

Frau  von  Eschenhagen  and  her  son  also  wished  to 
remain  to  look  at  the  Court  in  close  proximity ;  and 
the  Chief  Forester,  who  wished  to  distinguish  him- 
self in  the  probably  extensive  hunts,  held  daily  con- 
ferences with  the  Head  Forester  and  his  subordi- 
nates, and  put  the  whole  forestry  in  motion. 

There  was  much  bustle  already  about  the  castle. 
A  sound  of  merry  chattering  and  clear  laughter 
came  from  Fraulein  von  Schonan's  room.  Mari- 


144  THE    SIGN   OF   FLAME. 

etta  Volkmar  had  come  to  her  friend  for  an  hour, 
and  as  usual  there  was  no  end  to  the  talking  and 
laughing. 

Toni  sat  near  the  window,  and  Willibald,  who 
was  acting  as  guard  at  his  mother's  command,  stood 
beside  her. 

Frau  von  Eschenhagen  so  far  had  not  had  her 
way  about  the  intercourse  of  the  two  girls.  Her 
brother-in-law  had  remained  obstinate,  and  even  her 
future  daughter-in-law,  usually  so  compliant,  ren- 
dered unexpected  resistance  when  the  subject  was 
broached. 

"I  cannot,  dear  Aunt,"  Toni  had  answered. 
"Marietta  is  so  sweet  and  good  that  I  cannot  offend 
her  so  bitterly." 

Sweet  and  good!  Frau  Regine  shrugged  her 
shoulders  over  the  inexperience  of  the  young  girl, 
whose  eyes  she  did  not  wish  to  open,  but  she  felt 
bound  to  interfere,  and  concluded  to  act  diplomatic- 
ally this  time. 

Willibald,  accustomed  to  confess  everything  to  his 
mother,  had  narrated  to  a  fine  point  the  encounter 
with  the  young  singer.  Frau  von  Eschenhagen  had 
naturally  been  beside  herself  to  think  that  the  master 
of  Burgsdorf  should  have  carried  a  satchel  behind 
the  "theatre  princess!"  On  the  other  hand,  she 
heard  the  description  of  his  horror  upon  learning 
who  this  lady  really  was,  and  his  running  away,  with 
high  pleasure,  and  thought  it  exceedingly  praise- 
worthy that  he  objected  to  the  role  of  guard  over 
the  girl.  Of  course  he  disliked  every  touch  with 
such  a  person ;  but  since  his  mother  found  it  beneath 
her  dignity  to  attend  these  meetings,  he  must  pro- 
tect his  bride-elect. 

He  was  given  the  curt  command  to  never  leave 


.THE    SIGN    OF   FLAME.  145 

the  young  ladies  alone,  but  to  report  explicitly  how 
this  Marietta  actually  behaved  herself.  After  the 
first  report,  which  would  undoubtedly  be  atrocious, 
Frau  Regine  would  impress  upon  her  brother-in- 
law's  conscience  the  frivolous  association  he  had 
allowed  his  child;  would  call  upon  her  son  as  wit- 
ness, and  request  emphatically  the  breaking  off  of 
the  friendship. 

Willibald  had  finally  consented.  He  had  been 
present  when  Fraulein  Volkmar  made  her  first  visit 
to  Furstenstein.  He  had  accompanied  his  fiancee 
when  she  returned  the  call  at  Waldhofen,  and  now 
stood  at  his  post  to-day. 

Antonie  and  Marietta  talked  about  the  expected 
arrival  of  the  Court,  and  the  former,  who  had  but 
little  taste  in  dress,  asked  her  friend's  advice,  which 
was  gladly  given. 

"What  must  you  wear?  Roses,  of  course,"  said 
Marietta;  "white  or  delicate-colored  ones.  They 
will  look  lovely  with  the  dainty  blue." 

"But  I  do  not  like  roses,"  declared  Toni.  "I  in- 
tended to  wear  asters " 

"Then  why  not  sunflowers?  Do  you  wish  to  ap- 
pear autumnal  in  spite  of  everything,  although  you 
are  a  young  girl  and  a  bride-elect?  And  how  can 
you  help  liking  roses?  I  love  them  passionately 
and  use  them  at  every  opportunity.  I  wanted  so 
much  to  wear  a  rose  in  my  hair  at  the  Mayor's  party 
to-night,  and  am  quite  unhappy  because  none  are 
to  be  found  anywhere  in  Waldhofen.  Of  course  it 
is  late  in  the  season." 

"The  gardener  has  roses  in  the  hothouse,"  re- 
marked Antonie  in  the  sleepy  manner  which  was 
such  a  sharp  contrast  to  her  vivacious  friend. 

The  latter  shook  her  head  laughingly. 


14S  THE   SIGN   OF   FLAME. 

"They  are  doubtless  for  the  Duchess'  use,  and  we 
poor  mortals  dare  not  venture  to  ask  for  one. 
What's  the  use?  I  must  deny  myself  that  pleas- 
ure   But  to  return  to  the  dress  question.  You 

are  quite  superfluous  in  this,  Herr  von  Eschen- 
hagen.  You  do  not  understand  a  thing  about  it  and 
must  be  bored  to  death,  but  in  spite  of  it  you  do  not 
waver  nor  move;  besides,  what  is  there  so  remark- 
able about  me  that  you  look  at  me  so  constantly?" 

The  words  sounded  very  ungracious.  Willy 
started,  for  the  last  reproach  was  well  founded.  He 
had  been  meditating  upon  how  a  fresh,  half-open 
rose  would  look  in  the  dark,  curly  locks,  and,  of 
course,  had  to  subject  the  curls  and  the  head  be- 
longing to  them  to  a  minute  observation,  which  his 
fiancee  had  passed  unnoticed. 

"Yes,  Willy,  go,"  she  now  said  good-naturedly. 
"You  must  really  feel  bored  over  our  dress  affairs, 
and  I  have  much  to  talk  over  yet  with  Marietta." 

"Just  as  you  wish,  dear  Toni,"  returned  the  young 
lord;  "but  may  I  not  come  back?" 

"Of  course,  as  soon  as  you  wish." 

Willibald  left  the  room,  not  in  the  least  remem- 
bering that  he  was  deserting  his  post.  He  was 
thinking  of  something  quite  different  as  he  stood  for 
a  few  moments  in  the  little  ante-room.  In  conse- 
quence of  this  meditation  he  finally  descended  the 
stairs  and  turned  his  steps  straight  to  the  house  of 
the  castle  gardener. 

He  had  scarcely  left  when  Marietta  sprang  up 
and  exclaimed  with  comic  vehemence:  "Gracious 
heavens!  what  a  tiresome  couple  you  are!" 

"But,  Marietta " 

"Yes,  whether  you  are  offended  or  not,  I  declare 
it  is  a  sacrifice  to  friendship  to  stand  it  in  your 


THE   SIGN   OF   FLAME. 

presence,  and  I  had  anticipated  such  a  jolly  time 
when  I  heard  you  were  engaged.  You  were  never 
particularly  lively,  but  your  betrothed  seems  to  have 
lost  his  speech  entirely.  How  did  you  manage  to 
become  engaged  ?  Did  he  actually  speak  then,  or 
did  his  mamma  attend  to  that?" 

"Stop  your  foolishness,"  replied  Antonie,  dis- 
pleased. "Willy  is  only  so  silent  in  your  presence. 
He  can  be  quite  entertaining  when  we  are  alone." 

"Yes,  over  the  new  threshing  machine  he  has 
bought.  When  I  came  I  listened  a  moment  before 
T  entered.  He  was  singing  the  praise  of  the  before- 
mentioned  threshing  machine,  and  you  were  listen- 
ing attentively.  Oh,  you  will  reign  as  a  model 
couple,  but — may  heaven  protect  me  in  mercy  from 
such  a  marriageable  blessing!" 

"You  are  very  naughty.  Marietta,"  said  the  young 
Baroness,  now  really  angry,  but  her  mischievous 
little  friend  instantly  clung  to  her  neck. 

"Don't  be  mad,  Toni.  I  do  not  mean  any  harm, 
and  wish  you  happiness  with  all  my  heart,  but  you 
see  my  husband  has  to  be  of  a  different  nature." 

"Ah,  and  how,  pray?"  asked  Toni,  half  pouting, 
half  reconciled  by  the  coaxing  plea. 

"First,  he  has  to  be  under  my  command,  and  not 
under  his  mother's.  Second,  he  must  be  a  genuine 
man  in  whose  protection  I  feel  safe.  He  need  not 
talk  much — I  do  that — but  he  must  love  me  so  much 
— so  much  that  he  will  not  talk  about  papa  or 
mamma,  or  his  estates,  or  the  new  threshing  ma- 
chine, but  let  them  all  go  if  only  he  has — me." 

Toni  shrugged  her  shoulders  with  compassionate 
superiority. 

"You  have  very  childish  views  at  times,  Marietta 
— but  now  let  us  talk  about  the  dresses." 


148  THE    SIGN"   OF   FLAME. 

"Yes,  we  will,  before  your  elect  returns  and  posts 
himself  at  our  side  like  a  guard.  He  has  a  remark- 
able talent  for  mounting  guard.  Now,  you  wear 
with  the  blue  silk " 

The  pending  question  was  not  destined  to  receive 
a  solution  this  time,  either,  for  the  door  opened  and 
Frau  von  Eschenhagen  entered,  calling  for  Antonie, 
whose  presence  was  desired  elsewhere. 

Antonie  arose  obediently  and  left  the  room.  Frau 
Regine  made  no  effort  to  follow  her,  but  took  her 
vacant  seat  at  the  window  instead. 

The  reigning  mistress  of  Burgsdorf  was  not  dip- 
lomatically inclined  like  her  brother ;  she  had  to  in- 
terfere everywhere  with  force.  She  had  become 
impatient,  for  Willy  had  as  good  as  reported  noth- 
ing. He  grew  red  and  stammered  every  time  he 
should  have  repeated  what  the  "theatre  princess" 
had  said  and  done,  and  his  mother,  who  would  not 
believe  in  a  harmless  girls'  chat,  concluded  to  take 
the  affair  in  her  own  hands. 

Marietta  had  dutifully  risen  at  the  entrance  of  the 
older  lady,  whom  she  had  scarcely  seen  at  the  first 
visit,  and  whose  hostile  bearing  she  had  not  ob- 
served in  the  joy  of  the  first  meeting.  She  only 
thought  that  Toni's  future  mother-in-law  had  little 
friendliness  about  her,  but  troubled  herself  no  fur- 
ther about  the  severe  lady  who  was  now  meas- 
uring her  from  head  to  foot,  with  the  stern  mien  of 
a  judge. 

In  point  of  fact  this  Marietta  looked  just  like 
other  young  girls,  but  she  was  pretty — very  pretty, 
which  was  that  much  worse.  She  wore  her  hair  in 
short  curls — that  was  improper;  other  bad  attri- 
butes would  doubless  make  their  appearance  in  the 
conversation  which  was  now  begun. 


THE   SIGN   OF   FLAME.  149 

"You  are  a  friend  of  the  fiancee  of  my  son?" 

"Yes,  gracious  lady,"  was  the  unembarrassed  re- 
joinder. 

"A  friendship  which  dates  from  childhood,  as  you 
were  raised  in  the  house  of  Dr.  Volkmar?" 

"Certainly;  I  lost  my  parents  very  early." 

"Quite  right ;  my  brother-in-law  told  me  so.  And 
to  what  calling  did  your  father  belong?" 

"He  was  a  physician  like  my  grandpapa,"  replied 
Marietta,  more  amused  than  surprised  at  this  ex- 
amination, the  object  of  which  she  did  not  guess. 
"My  mother  was  also  the  daughter  of  a  physician — 
a  whole  medical  family,  is  it  not?  Only  I  have 
taken  a  different  course." 

"Alas,  yes,"  said  Frau  von  Eschenhagen  with  em- 
phasis. 

The  young  girl  looked  at  her  with  surprise.  Was 
that  a  jest  ?  The  mien  of  the  lady  was  not  at  all 
mirthful,  though,  as  she  continued :  "You  will  ad- 
mit, my  child,  that  if  one  has  the  good  fortune  to 
come  from  an  honorable  and  respected  family,  one 
ought  to  show  oneself  worthy  of  it.  You  ought  to 
have  chosen  your  vocation  accordingly." 

"Mon  Dieu!  but  I  could  not  study  medicine  like 
my  father  and  grandfather,"  exclaimed  Marietta, 
breaking  into  an  amused  laugh.  The  affair  gave 
her  endless  fun,  but  the  remark  displeased  her  stern 
judge,  who  replied  with  considerable  sharpness: 

"There  are,  God  be  thanked,  plenty  of  proper 
vocations  for  a  young  girl.  You  are  a  singer?" 

"Yes,  gracious  lady,  at  the  Court  Theatre." 

"I  know  it.  Are  you  disposed  to  accept  a  dis- 
missal ?" 

The  question  was  put  so  suddenly,  in  such  a  dom- 
ineering tone,  that  Marietta  involuntarily  retreated. 


150  THE   SIGN   OF   FLAME. 

She  was  still  of  the  opinion  that  the  lord  of  Burgs- 
dorf,  with  his  obstinate  silence  and  stormy  leave- 
taking,  was  not  quite  sane,  and  now  she  was  struck 
by  the  thought  that  it  might  be  a  family  failing 
which  he  had  inherited  from  his  mother,  for  it  was 
very  apparent  that  everything  was  not  quite  right 
with  her. 

"A  dismissal?"  she  repeated.     "But  why?" 

"For  the  sake  of  morality.  I  am  willing  to  offer 
you  a  helping  hand.  Turn  aside  from  this  path  of 
frivolity  and  I  pledge  myself  to  find  a  place  as  com- 
panion for  you." 

Now  at  last  the  young  singer  comprehended  the 
object  of  the  conversation.  Half  angrily  and  half 
scornfully  she  tossed  back  the  little,  curly  head. 

"I  must  thank  you  for  it,  but  I  love  my  work  and 
cannot  think  of  exchanging  it  for  a  dependent  posi- 
tion. I  am  not  fit,  anyway,  for  an  upper  maid." 

"I  have  expected  this  answer,"  said  Frau  von 
Eschenhagen  with  a  grim  nod  of  the  head,"  but  I 
consider  it  my  duty  to  once  more  appeal  to  your 
conscience.  You  are  still  very  young  and  are  there- 
fore not  responsible  to  a  great  extent  for  it;  the 
heaviest  reproach  falls  on  Doctor  Volkmar,  who  al- 
lowed the  daughter  of  his  son  to  accept  such  a  call- 
ing." 

"Gracious  lady,  I  must  beg  you  to  leave  my  grand- 
father entirely  out  of  the  question,"  cried  Marietta 
indignantly.  "You  are  Toni's  future  mother-in- 
law — otherwise  I  should  not  have  stood  this  exam- 
ination— but  I  will  not  suffer  an  insult  to  my  grand- 
father from  anybody  on  the  earth." 

In  their  excitement  the  two  ladies  had  not  no- 
ticed that  the  door  leading  to  the  ante-room  had 
opened  quietly,  and  that  Willibald  had  appeared. 


THE   SIGN   OF   FLAME.  151 

He  was  much  surprised  when  he  saw  his  mother, 
and  hastily  thrust  in  his  pocket  something1  that  he 
carried  carefully  wrapped  in  paper,  but  he  remained 
standing  in  the  door. 

"I  do  not  intend  to  argue  with  you,"  said  Frau 
von  Eschenhagen  in  lofty  tones,  "but  since  I  am 
Toni's  future  mother-in-law,  I  have  the  right  to 
warn  her  of  a  friendship  which  does  not  seem  proper 
to  me.  Pray  do  not  misunderstand  me.  I  am  not 
haughty.  The  granddaughter  of  Dr.  Volkmar 
would  be  quite  welcome  to  a  continuance  of  friend- 
ship, but  a  lady  from  a  theatre  probably  has  all  of 
her  connections  in  theatrical  circles,  and  here  at 
Furstenstein I  hope  you  understand  me?" 

"Oh,  yes,  I  understand  you,  gracious  lady,"  cried 
Marietta,  whose  face  was  suddenly  suffused  by  a 
deep  blush.  "You  do  not  need  to  say  anything 
more.  I  ask  but  for  one  more  word.  Is  Herr  von 
Schonan — is  Antonie — of  the  same  opinion  as  your- 
self?" 

"Chiefly  so  as  to  the  matter  of  it,  but,  of  course, 

they  do  not  wish — with  explanations — to "  A 

very  graphic  shrug  finished  the  sentence. 

The  otherwise  just  and  truth-loving  woman  did 
not  even  feel  that  she  was  plainly  telling  an  untruth. 
So  taken  up  with  her  idea  was  she  that  she  was 
firmly  convinced  that  the  Chief  Forester  kept  up  the 
intercourse  only  through  a  spirit  of  spite,  and  An- 
tonie through  her  good  nature,  although  it  must  be 
uncomfortable  to  them,  and  she  was  firmly  decided 
to  bring  this  thing  to  an  end. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

BUT  something  unexpected  happened  now.  Willi- 
bald,  who  still  stood  upon  the  threshold,  advanced 
into  the  room  and  exclaimed,  half  entreatingly,  half 
reproachfully:  "But,  mamma!" 

"Is  it  you,  Willy  ?  What  do  you  want  here  ?"  de- 
manded Frau  von  Eschenhagen,  noticing  him  for  the 
first  time,  and  to  whom  the  interruption  was  very 
unwelcome. 

Willibald  saw  very  well  that  his  mother  was  very 
ungraciously  inclined,  and  was  accustomed  always 
to  retreat  when  he  found  her  in  that  mood,  but  to- 
day, with  unusual  courage,  he  remained.  He  drew 
nearer  and  repeated,  "But,  mamma,  I  beg  of  you — 
Toni  has  never  thought  of  Fraulein  Volkmar's " 

"How  dare  you !  do  you  wish  to  accuse  me  of  an 
untruth  ?"  the  angered  mother  flamed.  "What  is  it 
to  you  that  I  speak  with  Fraulein  Volkmar  ?  Your 
fiancee  is  not  here — you  see  that — therefore  leave 
us!" 

The  young  lord  grew  darkly  red  at  this  tone,  to 
which  he  was  accustomed ;  he  seemed  to  feel  shame 
at  the  treatment  because  of  the  young  girl,  and 
looked  as  if  he  would  offer  some  resistance,  but  at 
a  threatening,  "Well,  did  you  not  hear?"  the  old 
habit  conquered.  He  turned  hesitatingly  and  actu- 
ally left  the  room,  but  the  door  remained  slightly 
ajar. 

Marietta  looked  after  him  with  scornfully  curled 
lips,  then  turned  to  her  opponent. 

152 


THE   SIGN   OF   FLAME.  153 

"You  may  rest  assured,  gracious  lady,  that  I  have 
come  to  Furstenstein  for  the  last  time.  As  the 
Chief  Forester  received  me  with  his  usual  cordiality, 
and  Antonie  with  the  old  affection,  I  did  not  com- 
prehend that  I  now  bear  a  stain  in  their  eyes.  I  cer- 
tainly would  not  have  made  myself  troublesome 
otherwise.  It  shall  not  happen  again — no,  never!" 

Her  voice  faltered ;  with  effort  she  suppressed  the 
tears,  but  they  trembled  bitterly  and  plaintively 
around  the  little  mouth,  and  Frau  von  Eschenhagen 
felt  that  she  had  gone  too  far  in  her  management  of 
the  case. 

"I  did  not  wish  to  offend  you,"  she  said  sooth- 
ingly. "I  only  intended  to  make  clear  to  you " 

"You  did  not  wish  to  offend  me  and  yet  tell  me 
such  things,"  interrupted  the  young  girl  in  an  out- 
burst of  anger.  "You  treat  me  like  an  outcast,  who 
should  not  dare  to  approach  decent  circles,  because 
I  earn  my  living,  and  give  pleasure  to  mankind  with 
a  gift  which  God  has  given  me.  You  abuse  my 
good,  dear  old  grandfather,  who  has  made  such 
painful  sacrifices  for  my  education,  who  has  let  me 
go  into  the  world  with  such  a  heavy  heart.  Bitter 
tears  stood  in  his  eyes  when  he  drew  me  once  more 
into  his  arms  at  parting  and  said:  'Remain  good, 
my  Marietta — one  can  be  good  in  every  position. 
I  can  leave  you  nothing.  If  I  should  close  my  eyes 
in  death  to-day  or  to-morrow  you  would  have  to 
struggle  for  yourself.'  And  I  have  remained  good, 
and  I  will  remain  good,  even  if  it  is  not  made  easy 
for  me  as  it  is  for  Toni,  who  is  the  daughter  of  a 
rich  father,  and  only  leaves  her  paternal  home  to  go 
to  the  home  of  her  husband.  But  I  do  not  envy  her 
the  good  fortune  of  calling  you  mother." 

"Fraulein  Volkmar,  you  forget  yourself,"  cried 


154  THE   SIGN   OP   FLAME. 

Regine,  highly  offended,  rising  to  her  fullest  height ; 
but  Marietta  was  not  intimidated,  she  only  grew 
more  excited. 

''Oh,  no;  it  is  not  I  who  forget  myself.  You  are 
the  one — you  who  insult  me  without  cause,  and  I 
know  that  the  Chief  Forester  and  Antonie  are  un- 
der your  influence  if  they  turn  from  me.  Never- 
theless, I  do  not  want  any  kindness  nor  friendship 
which  cannot  stand  more  firmly,  and  I  am  done  with 
a  friend  who  gives  me  up  at  the  request  of  her 
mother-in-law — done  with  her  once  for  all.  Tell 
her  so,  Frau  von  Eschenhagen. 

She  turned  and  left  the  room  with  a  stormy  ges- 
ture, but  in  the  ante-room  the  carefully  preserved 
composure  gave  way;  pain  overcame  anger,  and  the 
bravely  suppressed  tears  burst  forth  hotly.  The 
young  girl  leaned  her  head  against  the  wall  in  pas- 
sionate, bitter  sobbing  over  the  insult. 

Hearing  her  name  called  in  a  low,  timid  voice,  she 
looked  up  and  saw  Willibald  von  Eschenhagen 
standing  before  her,  holding  out  the  paper  which 
he  had  dropped  so  hastily  into  his  pocket.  It  was 
folded  back  now,  and  disclosed  a  rose  branch,  bear- 
ing a  wonderfully  beautiful  and  fragrant  blossom 
with  two  half-open  buds. 

"Fraulein  Volkmar,"  he  repeated,  stammering, 
"you  wished  a  rose — please  accept " 

Mute  apology  for  his  mother's  rudeness  could  be 
plainly  seen  in  his  eyes  and  his  whole  bearing. 
Marietta  suppressed  her  sobs,  but  the  tears  still  glis- 
tened in  the  dark  eyes,  which  looked  at  him  with  an 
inexpressibly  contemptuous  expression. 

"No,  I  thank  you,  Herr  von  Eschenhagen,"  she 
replied  sharply.  "You  have  probably  heard  what 
has  been  said  in  there  and  have  also  probably  re- 


THE   SIGN   OF   FLAME.  155 

ceived  a  command  to  shun  me.  Why  do  you  not 
obey?" 

"My  mother  has  done  you  wrong,"  Willibald  said 
half  aloud,  "and  she  also  spoke  without  the  knowl- 
edge of  the  others.  Toni  does  not  know  anything 
about  it,  believe  me " 

"So  you  knew  that  and  did  not  offer  a  word  of 
contradiction!"  the  girl  interrupted,  scarlet  with 
anger.  "You  listened  to  your  mother  insulting  and 
offending  a  defenseless  girl  and  did  not  have  chiv- 
alry enough  to  oppose  it !  Oh,  yes,  you  tried  it,  but 
were  scolded  and  sent  off  like  a  schoolboy  and — 
bore  it  meekly !" 

Willibald  stood  there  as  if  thunderstruck.  He 
had,  indeed,  felt  the  injustice  of  his  mother  deeply, 
and  wished  to  make  it  good  to  the  best  of  his  ability, 
and  now  he  was  treated  like  this!  He  stared  at 
Marietta  in  deep  perplexity,  while  she  only  grew 
angrier  at  his  silence. 

"And  now  you  come  and  bring  me  flowers,"  she 
continued,  with  increasing  passion,  "secretly — be- 
hind your  mother's  back,  and  think  that  I  will  ac- 
cept such  an  apology !  You  would  better  learn  first 
how  a  man  deports  himself  when  he  is  witness  to 
such  injustice.  But  now — now  I  will  show  you 
what  I  think  of  your  present  and  of  you!" 

She  tore  the  paper  with  its  contents  out  of  his 
hand,  threw  it  on  the  ground,  and  in  the  next  second 
her  little  foot  stamped  upon  the  fragrant  blossoms. 

"My,  Fraulein "  Willibald  wavered  between 

shame  and  indignation,  but  a  stern  glance  from  the 
hitherto  saucy  eyes  silenced  him,  and  the  poor  roses 
were  finished  by  a  push  from  the  small  foot. 

"So — now  we  are  at  the  end.  If  Toni  really 
knows  nothing  of  this  affair  I  shall  be  sorry,  but  in 


156  THE    SIGN    OF   FLAME. 

spite  of  it  I  must  remain  away  in  the  future,  for  I 
will  not  expose  myself  to  fresh  insults.  May  she 
be  happy.  I  could  not  be  in  her  place.  I  am  a  poor 
girl,  but  I  would  not  accept  a  man  who  is  still  afraid 
of  his  mother's  switch — no,  not  if  he  were  ten  times 
lord  of  Burgsdorf !" 

With  which  she  disappeared,  and  left  the  poor 
lord  standing  alone. 

"Willy,  what  does  this  mean?"  demanded  the 
voice  of  Frau  von  Eschenhagen,  who  appeared  in 
the  door.  As  no  reply  came,  she  approached  her 
son  with  threatening  mien. 

"It  was  certainly  a  strange  scene  which  I  had  to 
look  upon.  Will  you  be  so  good  as  to  explain  what 
it  really  meant?  That  little  thing  actually  glared 
with  anger  and  said  the  most  impertinent  things  to 
your  face,  and  you  stood  there  like  a  sheep,  without 
defending  yourself." 

"Because  she  was  right,"  murmured  Willibald, 
still  looking  at  the  roses. 

"She  was  what?"  demanded  the  mother,  who 
could  not  believe  that  she  had  heard  aright. 

The  young  lord  raised  his  head  and  looked  at  her. 
He  had  a  peculiar  expression  on  his  face. 

"She  was  right,  I  say,  mamma.  It  is  true,  you 
have  treated  me  like  a  schoolboy.  I  ought  not  to 
have  submitted  to  it." 

"Boy,  I  believe  you  are  not  in  your  senses," 
said  Frau  Regine,  but  Willibald  started  in  irri- 
tation : 

"I  am  no  boy.  I  am  lord  of  Burgsdorf  and 
twenty-seven  years  old.  You  forget  that  always, 
mamma,  and  I  have  forgotten  it  always — but  now  I 
recall  it." 

Frau  von  Eschenhagen  looked  with  boundless  as- 


THE    SIGN   OF   FLAME.  157 

tonishment  at  her  hitherto  obedient  son,  who  was 
now  suddenly  making  resistance. 

"I  actually  believe  you  would  like  to  be  rebellious, 
my  boy.  Do  not  try;  you  know  I  will  not  permit 
it.  What  possesses  you  suddenly  to  be  so  arbitrary  ? 
While  I  try  to  end  a  highly  improper  intercourse 
and  put  aside  this  Marietta,  you  go  and,  behind  my 
back,  actually  offer  an  apology  for  it — even  offer 
her  the  roses  which  you  had  intended  for  your  be- 
trothed. Although  I  do  not  know  how  you  came  to 
do  it,  it  is  the  first  time  in  your  life — but  Toni  will 
not  thank  you  for  it.  It  served  you  right  that  the 
little  witch  crushed  them.  You  will  leave  such  fool- 
ishness alone  in  the  future." 

She  scolded  him  in  the  usual  tone  without  taking 
any  notice  of  his  rebellion,  but  Willibald  took  it 
wrongly  this  time.  He  who  had  but  ten  minutes  be- 
fore hidden  the  flowers  in  his  pocket  with  fear  now 
had  a  touch  of  heroism.  Instead  of  leaving  his 
mother  in  her  belief  and  hushing  the  dangerous 
storm,  he  positively  challenged  it. 

"The  roses  were  not  destined  for  Toni  at  all,  but 
for  Fraulein  Volkmar,"  he  explained  defiantly. 

"For "  the  word  choked  the  terror-stricken 

woman. 

"For  Marietta  Volkmar !  She  wanted  to  wear  a 
rose  in  her  hair  to-night,  and  since  there  were  none 
to  be  had  in  Waldhofen,  I  went  to  the  castle  gar- 
dener and  got  those  flowers.  Now  you  know  it  all, 
mamma." 

Frau  von  Eschenhagen  stood  there  like  a  pillar  of 
salt.  She  had  turned  ashy  pale,  for  suddenly  a 
light  had  dawned  upon  her,  but  it  showed  her  some- 
thing so  awful  that  she  lost  both  speech  and  motion 
for  a  while. 


158  THE    SIGN   OF   FLAME. 

But  her  old  fire  returned.  She  grasped  her  son's 
arm  as  if  she  meant  to  have  him  in  any  case  and 
said  curtly : 

"Willy — we  leave  to-morrow." 

"Leave!"  he  repeated.     "For  where?" 

"Home.  We  depart  to-morrow  morning  at  8 
o'clock,  so  that  we  can  catch  the  fast  train  and  arrive 
at  Burgsdorf  the  day  after  to-morrow.  Go  imme- 
diately to  your  room  and  pack." 

But  the  commanding  tone  made  no  impression 
whatever  on  Willy  this  time. 

"I  shall  not  pack,"  he  declared  sullenly. 

"You  shall  pack.     I  command  you." 

"No,"  defied  the  young  lord.  "If  you  want  to 
leave  so  badly,  mamma,  you  can  leave — I  remain 
here." 

This  was  unheard  of,  but  it  dispelled  the  last 
doubt  and  the  energetic  woman,  who  still  held  her 
son  in  her  grasp,  now  shook  him  fiercely. 

"Boy,  wake  up !  Come  to  your  senses !  I  believe 
you  do  not  know  what  is  the  matter  with  you.  I 
will  tell  you  then.  You  are  in  love — in  love  with 
this  Marietta  Volkmar." 

She  threw  the  last  words  at  him  with  annihilating 
emphasis,  but  Willibald  was  not  in  the  least  annihi- 
lated. He  stood  quite  still  from  surprise  for  a  mo- 
ment. He  had  not  thought  of  that,  but  now  it  be- 
gan to  dawn  upon  him. 

"Oh,"  he  said  with  a  deep  sigh,  and  something 
like  a  smile  flitted  over  his  features. 

"  'Oh !'  is  that  your  whole  answer  ?"  burst  forth 
the  enraged  mother,  who  had  hoped  for  a  denial. 
"You  do  not  even  deny  it  ?  And  I  have  to  live  to  see 
that  in  my  own  son  whom  I  have  raised — who  has 
never  been  allowed  to  leave  my  side !  While  I  put 


THE    SIGN    OF    FLAME.  159 

you  there  as  a  guard  during  those  previous  visits  to 
your  fiancee  she  bewitches  you — that  is  plain — and 
even  plays  the  virtuous,  deeply  offended  one  before 
you — this- " 

"Mamma,  stop;  I  cannot  allow  it,"  interrupted 
Willibald,  irritated  beyond  silence. 

"You  cannot  allow  it  ?  What  does  it  mean " 

Frau  von  Eschenhagen  suddenly  paused  and  looked 
toward  the  door,  listening.  "Toni  is  returning, 
there — your  betrothed,  to  whom  you  have  pledged 
your  word,  who  wears  your  ring.  How  will  you  ac- 
count to  her?" 

She  had  finally  struck  the  right  chord.  The 
young  lord  started  at  this  thought  and  bowed  his 
head  mutely  when  Antonie  entered,  quite  uncon- 
cerned. 

"You  have  returned  already,  Willy?"  she  asked. 
"I  thought — but  what  is  it?  Has  anything  hap- 
pened?" 

"Yes,"  answered  Frau  Regine,  grasping  the  reins, 
as  usual,  decisively.  "We  have  just  received  a  com- 
munication from  Burgsdorf  which  forces  us  to  de- 
part to-morrow  morning.  You  need  not  be  fright- 
ened, my  child,  it  is  nothing  dangerous — only  a  fool- 
ishness"— she  laid  sharp  emphasis  on  the  word — 
"a  foolishness  which  has  been  committed,  but  which 
will  be  removed  just  as  speedily  by  quick  interfer- 
ence. I  will  tell  you  all  about  it  later,  but  for  the 
present  nothing  can  be  done  but  by  our  departure." 

Curiosity  was  not  one  of  Antonie's  faults,  and 
even  this  quite  unexpected  news  was  not  able  to 
ruffle  her  composure.  The  statement  that  nothing 
serious  was  concerned  satisfied  her  entirely. 

"Must  Willy  leave  also  ?"  she  asked  without  par- 
ticular enthusiasm.  "Cannot  he  at  least  remain?" 


160  THE    SIGN    OF   FLAME. 

"Answer  your  fiancee  yourself,  Willy,"  said  Frau 
von  Eschenhagen,  fixing  her  sharp,  gray  eyes  upon 
her  son.  "You  know  best  what  the  circumstances 
are.  Can  you  really  consent  to  stay  here?" 

A  short  pause.  Willibald's  glance  met  his 
mother's;  then  he  turned  away  and  said  in  a  sup- 
pressed voice,  "No,  Toni,  I  must  go  home — nothing 
else  is  possible." 

Toni  accepted  the  decision,  which  would  have 
pained  another  girl  deeply,  with  moderate  regret, 
and  began  to  inquire  directly  where  the  travelers 
would  dine  to-morrow,  since  the  fast  train  had  no 
stoppage  anywhere.  This  seemed  to  grieve  her  as 
much  as  the  separation,  but  she  finally  concluded  that 
it  would  be  best  for  them  to  take  a  lunch  along  to 
eat  on  the  train. 

Frau  von  Eschenhagen  felt  triumphant  when  she 
went  to  her  brother-in-law  to  notify  him  of  their  de- 
parture, for  which  she  had  already  found  a  pretext. 

Many  a  thing  could  happen  on  the  large  estates  to 
afford  an  explanation.  \ 

Naturally,  the  Chief  Forester  must  not  learn  the 
truth  any  more  than  his  daughter,  although  he  had 
caused  the  whole  trouble  in  his  blindness. 

Regine  did  not  doubt  in  the  least  that  as  soon  as 
she  removed  her  Willy  from  the  fascinating  circle 
of  this  "witch"  he  would  return  to  reason.  Had  he 
not  shown  it  just  now? 

She  would  not  see  that  honor  toward  his  be- 
trothed alone  had  conquered,  and  that  it  had  been  a 
terrible  mistake  to  expose  his  feelings  to  another. 

"Wait,  my  boy,"  she  muttered  grimly.  "I  will 
teach  you  to  commence  such  things,  and  to  rebel 
against  your  mother.  When  once  I  have  you  at 
Burg-sdorf,  may  God  have  mercy  on  you!" 


CHAPTER  XX. 

ON  the  appointed  day  the  Duke,  with  the  Duchess 
and  a  numerous  suite,  arrived  at  Furstenstein,  and 
the  life  full  of  splendor  which  had  been  led  in  for- 
mer times  began  again  in  the  wide,  beautiful  hunt- 
ing grounds  of  the  Wald. 

The  present  sovereign  was  no  ardent  huntsman, 
and  the  hunting  lodge  of  his  ancestors  had  stood  de- 
serted for  years,  or  was  occupied  only  at  long  inter- 
vals for  a  brief  visit.  Now,  when  a  prolonged  stay 
was  anticipated,  the  spacious  castle  scarce  afforded 
room  enough  for  the  guests;  a  part  of  them  were 
quartered  in  neighboring  Waldhofen,  which  made 
the  little  town,  as  well  as  the  entire  vicinity,  very 
festive  in  joyful  excitement. 

The  owners  of  the  neighboring  castles  and  villas, 
who,  like  Prince  Adelsberg,  belonged  to  the  best 
families  of  the  land,  were  induced  by  the  arrival  of 
the  Court  to  take  up  their  fall  quarters  there,  too. 
Nearly  everybody  had  brought  numerous  guests,  and 
so  an  unusual  life  and  bustle  developed  in  the  silent 
Wald,  the  centre  of  which  activity  being,  of  course, 
Furstenstein. 

The  castle  shone  to-night  in  fullest  splendor; 
every  window  of  the  upper  floor  was  lighted,  and  in 
the  court  torches  threw  their  red  light  upon  the  walls 
and  towers  gray  with  age. 

It  was  the  occasion  of  the  first  large  fete  since  the 
arrival  of  the  princely  family,  to  which  were  asked 


162  THE    SIGN    OF   FLAME. 

all  the  nobility  of  the  neighborhood,  the  higher  offi- 
cials of  the  district,  and,  in  short,  everybody  who 
had  any  claim  upon  their  sovereign's  notice. 

The  castle,  which  was  built  in  a  grand  style,  con- 
tained a  number  of  gorgeous  rooms  of  state,  which, 
with  their  old-fashioned  but  costly  furnishings,  and 
the  brilliant  company  moving  through  them,  af- 
forded a  decidedly  splendid  spectacle. 

The  young  wife  of  the  Prussian  Ambassador  was 
a  new  star  among  the  ladies  present.  Mourning 
for  her  father,  who  had  died  shortly  after  her  mar- 
riage, had  kept  her  from  all  festivities,  and  she 
entered  to-day  for  the  first  time  this  brilliant  circle, 
where  the  position  of  her  husband  assured  her 
a  prominent  place,  and  where  she  was  being  treated 
by  the  Duke  and  Duchess  with  noticeable  dis- 
tinction. 

The  rising  of  this  new  star  was  noticed  by  the 
ladies,  of  course,  with  some  displeasure.  They 
found  Frau  von  Wallmoden  very  haughty  in  her 
cool  composure,  and  that  she  had  very  little  occasion 
for  such  bearing;  for,  of  course,  they  all  knew  that 
she  was  a  born  burgher,  who  did  not  properly  be- 
long in  this  circle,  even  if  her  father's  wealth  and 
his  prominent  position  with  the  industries  of  the 
country  gave  her  a  certain  distinction.  Neverthe- 
less, she  moved  upon  the  foreign  soil  with  a  strange 
ease — the  husband  must  have  schooled  her  well  for 
this  first  appearance. 

The  gentlemen  were  of  a  different  opinion.  They 
found  that  His  Excellency  the  Ambassador  had 
proved  his  talent  most  strikingly  in  his  own  cause. 
He  who  already  stood  upon  the  border  of  old  age 
had  understood  how  to  gain,  with  the  hand  of  this 
young,  beautiful  wife,  a  fortune  extensive  enough 


THE   SIGN   OF   FLAME.  163 

in  itself,  but  magnified  by  rumor  into  the  immeas- 
urable. For  this  he  was  envied  on  all  sides. 

Wallmoden  did  not  seem  at  all  surprised  at  the 
impression  which  the  beauty  and  stateliness  of  his 
wife  too  apparently  caused,  but  accepted  it  as  some- 
thing natural.  He  had  expected  nothing  else;  the 
contrary  would  have  surprised  him  in  the  highest 
degree. 

At  present  he  was  standing  in  a  window  recess 
with  his  brother-in-law,  the  Chief  Forester,  and 
after  exchanging  a  few  indifferent  remarks  about 
the  fete  and  the  guests,  he  asked  casually:  "What 
sort  of  person  is  that  whom  Prince  Adelsberg  has 
introduced?  Do  you  know  him?" 

"You  mean  the  young  Roumanian?"  said  Scho- 
nan.  "No ;  I  see  him  to-day  for  the  first  time,  but 
have  heard  of  him  before.  He  is  the  bosom  friend 
of  the  Prince,  whom  he  accompanied  upon  his  East- 
ern travels,  and  a  young  man  handsome  as  a  picture 
— his  eyes  positively  sparkle  with  fire/' 

"He  impresses  me  as  an  adventurer,"  remarked 
Wallmoden  coldly.  "How  does  he  happen  to  have 
an  invitation?  Has  he  been  presented  to  the 
Duke?" 

"Yes,  at  Rodeck,  if  I  am  not  mistaken ;  the  Duke 
was  there  recently.  Prince  Adelsberg  loves  to  throw 
etiquette  aside  as  much  as  possible.  But  this  invita- 
tion to-day  signifies  no  acceptance,  since  everybody 
has  been  asked." 

The  Ambassador  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"Nevertheless,  one  should  hesitate  about  bringing 
such  elements  near  one  before  they  come  well  recom- 
mended." 

"Everything  must  be  certified  to  with  letter  and 
seal  with  you  diplomats,"  laughed  the  Chief.  "This 


1G-A  THE    SIGN   OF    FLAME. 

Rojanow  has  certainly  something  aristocratic  about 
him,  and  one  is  never  so  strict,  anyway,  with  a  for- 
eigner. I  can  well  understand  that  our  sovereigns 
like  to  hear  and  see  something  different  from  the 
usual  court  circle,  which  presents  the  same  old  tire- 
some face  from  year  to  year.  The  Duke  appears 
to  be  quite  captivated  already  with  the  Roumanian." 

"Yes,  it  seems  so,"  muttered  Wallmoden,  upon 
whose  brow  a  cloud  gathered. 

"But  why  should  this  concern  us?"  remarked 
Schonan.  "I  will  go  now  and  look  for  Toni,  who 
has  to  appear  now  everywhere  without  her  be- 
trothed. That  was  another  notion  of  Regine's. 
She  departed  from  us  with  her  son  like  a  skyrocket. 
Your  sister  cannot  be  detained  as  soon  as  the  beloved 
Burgsdorf  is  brought  into  question.  If  she  had 
only  left  Willy  with  us!  Everybody  wonders  that 
my  future  son-in-law  should  take  his  departure  be- 
fore the  fete.  I  cannot  understand  it  at  all." 

"A  stroke  of  good  fortune  that  they  are  gone," 
thought  Wallmoden,  as  his  brother-in-law  left  him. 
"If  Willibald  had  met  his  former  friend  and  play- 
mate here  unexpectedly  another  scene  similar  to 
that  upon  the  Hochberg  might  have  occurred.  But 
who  would  have  thought  that  Hartmut  would  carry 
his  defiance  so  far  as  to  appear  in  a  circle  where  he 
was  sure  to  meet  the  Ambassador?" 

Prince  Adelsberg,  who  held  in  this  circle  one  of 
the  highest  positions  through  his  name  and  relation- 
ship to  the  reigning  house,  had,  indeed,  succeeded 
with  the  presentation  of  his  friend,  and  the  Duke 
seemed  to  have  had  a  very  favorable  opinion  of  him 
from  the  first  meeting  at  Rodeck,  for  he  now  him- 
self presented  this  young  stranger  to  the  Duchess. 

This  Rojanow,  with  the  captivating  charm  of  his 


THE    SIGN   OF   FLAME.  165 

personality  and  the  foreign  air  which  surrounded 
him,  was.  indeed,  an  extraordinary  person,  who  had 
only  to  appear  to  cause  general  observation. 

To-day  he  displayed  lavishly  all  the  brilliant  at- 
tributes which  were  at  his  command.  His  conver- 
sation sparkled  with  life  and  spirit,  his  fiery  tem- 
perament, which  betrayed  itself  involuntarily,  gave 
to  everything  he  said  and  did  a  peculiar  charm, 
while  he  proved  himself  in  every  respect  master  of 
society  forms  and  customs.  In  short,  the  prophecy 
of  the  Prince  was  fulfilled. 

Hartmut  knew  how  to  conquer  everybody  here  by 
storm,  and  had  hardly  put  his  foot  upon  the  soil 
when  he  reigned  there  by  the  power  of  his  magnet- 
ism. 

This  could  not  pass  unnoticed  by  the  Ambassador, 
even  if  he  did  not  come  into  direct  contact  with  the 
Roumanian.  It  was  not  difficult  to  evade  each  other 
in  the  throng  of  guests,  and  a  meeting  was  not  de- 
sired on  either  side. 

Wallmoden  walked  through  a  side  room,  where 
the  Duke's  sister,  the  Princess  Sophie,  had  gathered 
a  large  circle  around  her. 

The  Princess,  who  had  married  the  younger  son 
of  a  princely  house,  had  very  early  become  a  widow, 
and  had  lived  since  then  at  the  court  of  her  brother, 
where  she  was  not  in  the  least  popular.  While  the 
Duchess  charmed  everybody  who  came  into  her  pres- 
ence by  her  grace  and  kindness,  the  older  sister  was 
considered  haughty  and  intriguante.  Everybody 
stood  in  fear  of  the  lady's  sharp  tongue,  which  had  a 
habit  of  saying  something  disagreeable  to  each  and 
every  one. 

Herr  von  Wallmoden  did  not  escape  this  fate. 
He  was  graciously  beckoned  to  and  received  flat- 


166  THE   SIGN"   OF   FLAME. 

teries  on  the  beauty  of  his  wife,  which  was  not  to  be 
denied. 

"I  offer  you  my  congratulations,  Your  Excellency. 
I  was  quite  surprised  when  your  young  wife  was 
presented  to  me,  for  I  had  naturally  expected  to  see 
an  elderly  lady." 

The  "naturally"  sounded  very  malicious,  for  Prin- 
cess Sophie  had  known  for  months  that  the  wife  of 
the  Prussian  Ambassador  was  only  nineteen  years 
old,  but  he  smiled  in  the  most  amiable  way  as  he 
replied:  "Your  Highness  is  very  gracious.  I  can 
only  be  grateful  that  my  wife  has  had  the  good  for- 
tune to  make  a  favorable  impression  upon  you." 

"Oh,  you  cannot  doubt  it.  The  Duke  and 
Duchess  are  quite  of  my  opinion.  Frau  von  Wall- 
moden  is  really  a  beauty — Prince  Adelsberg  seems 
to  think  so,  too.  Perhaps  you  have  not  observed  as 
yet  how  very  much  he  admires  your  wife?" 

"Yes,  Your  Highness,  I  have  observed  it." 

"Really?     And  what  do  you  say  to  it?" 

"I?"  inquired  Wallmoden  with  perfect  tranquil- 
lity. "It  rests  solely  with  my  wife  as  to  whether  she 
will  permit  the  admiration  of  the  Prince.  If  she 

finds  pleasure  in  it I  do  not  give  her  any  rules 

in  this  respect." 

"An  enviable  confidence  which  our  young  gentle- 
men ought  to  pattern  after,"  said  the  Princess,  vexed 
that  the  arrow  had  missed  its  aim.  "It  is  surely 
very  agreeable  to  a  young  wife  if  the  husband  is  not 
jealous.  Ah,  there  is  Frau  von  Wallmoden  herself, 
with  her  cavalier,  of  course,  at  her  side.  My  dear 
Baroness,  we  were  just  speaking  of  you." 


CHAPTER  XXL 

ADELAIDE  VON  WALLMODEN,  who  had  just  en- 
tered in  company  with  Prince  Adelsberg,  bowed  her 
recognition  of  the  Princess'  notice. 

She  made,  indeed,  a  brilliant  picture  to-night,  for 
the  splendid  court  toilet  enhanced  her  beauty  trium- 
phantly. The  costly  brocade  of  the  white  dress, 
which  fell  to  her  feet  in  heavy  folds,  suited  the  slen- 
der figure  admirably.  The  pearls  encircling  her 
throat  and  the  diamonds  which  sparkled  in  her 
blond  hair  were  perhaps  the  most  costly  of  any 
worn  to-night ;  but  more  sharply  than  ever  appeared 
the  cold  and  serious  expression  of  the  young  wife. 
She  did  not  in  the  least  resemble  others  of  her  age 
who  were  also  married,  but  who  claimed  the  right  of 
youth  to  dress  in  dainty  laces  and  flowers.  She 
possessed  nothing  of  their  brightness — the  urbane 
amiability  which  was  so  fully  brought  to  view  in 
them.  The  severe,  serious  expression  which  was  an 
inheritance  from  her  father,  and  so  indelibly  stamped 
in  her  nature,  betrayed  itself  in  her  character. 

Egon  kissed  his  exalted  aunt's  hand,  and  had  been 
honored  with  a  few  gracious  words,  but  from  the 
first,  the  amiable  attention  of  Her  Highness  was 
quite  taken  up  by  the  young  Baroness,  who  was 
immediately  drawn  into  conversation. 

"I  was  just  expressing  my  pleasure  to  His  Ex- 
cellency that  you  find  yourself  so  quickly  at  home 
in  our  court  circle,  dear  Baroness.  You  enter  these 

167 


168  THE    SIGN   OF    FLAME. 

circles  to-day  for  the  first  time,  if  I  understand 
aright,  and  have  lived  hitherto  in  entirely  different 
surroundings.  "You  were  born  a " 

"Stahlberg,  Your  Highness,"  was  the  calm  re- 
joinder. 

"Quite  right.  I  remember  the  name,  which  has 
been  spoken  several  times  in  my  presence.  It  is 
honorably  known  in  your  native  town,  I  presume." 

"Most  gracious  aunt,  you  must  permit  me  to  in- 
form you  better,"  joined  in  Prince  Adelsberg,  who 
seldom  permitted  an  opportunity  of  vexing  his  most 
gracious  aunt  to  pass  by.  "The  factories  of  Stahl- 
berg  are  world-renowned.  They  are  as  well  known 
across  the  ocean  as  they  are  here.  I  had  an  oppor- 
tunity to  learn  all  about  them  when  I  was  in  North- 
ern Germany  several  years  ago,  and  I  can  assure  you 
that  those  works — those  iron  foundries  and  fac- 
tories, with  their  colonies  of  officers  and  their  army 
of  workmen,  can  well  vie  with  many  a  small  princi- 
pality, whose  sovereign,  though,  is  not  such  an  abso- 
lute ruler  as  was  the  father  of  Her  Excellency." 

The  Princess  cast  anything  but  a  friendly  glance 
at  her  nephew ;  his  interference  was  not  desired. 

"Indeed!  I  had  no  idea  of  such  magnificence," 
she  said  in  her  most  caustic  tone.  "We  may,  per- 
haps, then  greet  His  Excellency  as  such  a  ruler?" 

"Only  as  administrator,  Your  Highness,"  re- 
joined the  Ambassador.  "I  am  only  the  executor  of 
my  father-in-law's  will,  and  guardian  of  my  young 
brother-in-law,  to  whom  the  works  will  go  when  he 
attains  his  majority." 

"Ah,  so?  The  son  will  probably  know  how  to 
keep  the  inheritance.  It  is  really  astonishing  what 
the  energy  of  a  single  man  can  do  in  these  days,  and 
it  is  so  much  more  praiseworthy  if  he,  like  the  father 


THE   SIGN    OF   FLAME.  169 

of  our  dear  Baroness,  has  come  from  humble  circles. 
At  least  I  believe  I  have  heard  so,  or  am  I  mis- 
taken?" 

Princess  Sophie  knew  very  well  that  these  re- 
marks about  the  origin  of  his  father-in-law  were  un- 
pleasant to  the  Ambassador,  a  man  of  old  Prussian 
nobility,  and  it  caused  her  great  satisfaction  that 
the  surrounding  circle  did  not  lose  a  word  of  the  con- 
versation, which  was  intended  principally  to  humble 
the  lady  of  burgher  descent. 

But  she  was  mistaken  if  she  counted  upon  the 
Baroness  falling  into  embarrassment  or  evasion. 
Instead  of  that  she  drew  herself  up  in  all  her  pride. 

"Your  Highness  is  quite  correctly  informed.  My 
father  came  to  the  Capital  a  poor  boy  without 
means.  He  had  to  struggle  hard,  and  worked  for 
years  as  a  humble  laborer,  before  he  laid  the  founda- 
tion to  his  later  enterprises." 

"How  proudly  Frau  von  Wallmoden  says  that!" 
cried  the  Princess,  smiling.  "Oh,  I  love  this  filial 
attachment  above  everything.  So  Herr  Stahlberg 
— or  perhaps  von  Stahlberg? — the  large  manufac- 
turers often  bear  a  title " 

"My  father  did  not  bear  it,  Your  Highness,"  re- 
plied Adelaide,  meeting  the  glance  of  the  royal  lady 
calmly  and  openly.  "A  title  had  indeed  been  offered 
him,  but  he  refused  it." 

The  Ambassador  pressed  his  thin  lips  together. 
He  could  but  find  the  remark  of  his  wife  very  un- 
diplomatic. The  features  of  the  Princess  assumed 
an  angry  expression,  and  she  returned  with  biting 
sarcasm :  "Well,  then,  it  is  a  good  thing  that  this 
aversion  has  not  descended  to  the  daughter.  His 
Excellency  will  know  how  to  value  it.  I  beg  your 
escort,  Egon.  I  should  like  to  look  for  my  brother.'* 


170  THE   SIGN   OF   FLAME. 

She  bowed  to  the  circle  and  glided  away  on  the 
arm  of  the  Prince,  whose  bearing  plainly  said : 

''Now  comes  my  turn." 

He  was  not  mistaken.  Her  Highness  had  no 
thought  of  finding  the  Duke,  but  took  a  seat  in  the 
adjoining  room  with  her  young  relative,  whom  she 
wished  to  have  to  herself. 

At  first  her  anger  burst  forth  at  the  unbearably 
haughty  Frau  von  Wallmoden,  who  boasted  of  her 
father's  burgher  pride,  while  she  had  married  a 
Baron  from  vanity,  for  she  could  not  possibly  feel 
any  affection  for  a  man  old  enough  to  be  her  father. 
Egon  was  silent  as  to  that,  for  he  had  already  put 
the  same  question  to  himself,  How  had  this  un- 
equal match  come  to  take  place?  without  finding  an 
answer  to  it ;  but  his  silence  was  now  an  offence. 

"Well,  Egon,  have  you  nothing  to  say?  But  you 
seem  to  have  sworn  allegiance  to  this  lady ;  you  have 
been  constantly  at  her  side." 

"I  do  homage  to  beauty  wherever  I  meet  it;  you 
know  that,  most  gracious  aunt,"  expostulated  the 
Prince.  But  alas!  he  only  called  forth  another 
storm. 

"Yes,  alas!  I  know  that.  In  this  respect  you 
are  of  incomprehensible  heedlessness.  Perhaps  you 
do  not  remember  all  my  admonishings  and  warnings 
before  your  departure?" 

"Ah,  only  too  well,"  sighed  Egon,  who  even  now 
felt  quite  stifled  with  the  remembrance  of  the  end- 
less lecture  which  he  had  had  to  endure  at  that  time. 

"Really?  But  you  have  not  returned  any  more 

sensible  or  sedate.  I  have  heard  things Egon, 

there  is  only  one  salvation  for  you — you  must 
marry." 

"For  heaven's  sake,  anything  but  that!"     Egon 


THE    SIGN    OF   FLAME.  171 

started  up  so  terrified  that  Princess  Sophie  opened 
her  fan  indignantly. 

"What  do  you  mean  by  that?"  she  asked  in  cut- 
ting tones. 

"Oh,  only  my  un worthiness  to  enter  into  that 
state.  Your  Highness  yourself  have  often  assured 
me  that  I  was  particularly  fitted  to  make  a  wife 
unhappy'' 

"If  the  wife  does  not  succeed  in  bettering  you,  of 
course.  I  do  not  despair  yet  of  that.  But  this  is 
not  the  place  to  speak  of  such  things.  The  Duchess 
is  planning  a  visit  to  Rodeck,  and  I  intend  to  ac- 
company her." 

"What  a  charming  idea!"  exclaimed  Egon,  who 
was  almost  as  much  terrified  by  the  proposed  visit 
as  by  the  thought  of  marriage.  "I  am  really  proud 
that  Rodeck,  which  is  usually  such  a  small,  tiresome 
forest  nook,  can  just  now  furnish  you  with  some 
curiosities.  I  brought  many  things  from  my  travels, 
among  them  a  lion,  two  young  tigers,  several 
snakes " 

"But  not  live  ones?"  interrupted  the  horrified  lady. 

"Of  course,  Your  Highness." 

"But,  mon  Dieu!  one  is  not  sure  of  one's  life 
there." 

"Oh,  it  is  not  so  dangerous,  although  some  of  the 
beasts  have  broken  away  from  us  already — the 
people  are  so  careless  at  feeding  time;  but  they  have 
always  been  secured  again,  and  have  not  done  any 
harm  as  yet." 

"As  yet?  That  is  a  charming  prospect,  indeed," 
said  the  Princess  angrily.  "You  put  the  whole 
neighborhood  in  danger.  The  Duke  ought  to  pro- 
hibit you  such  dangerous  playthings." 

"I  hope  not4  for  I  am  just  now  seriously  occupied 


173  THE    SIGN   OF   FLAME. 

in  attempting  to  tame  some  of  them.  But  besides 
these  I  can  show  you  many  domestic  things  that 
are  worth  looking  at.  There  are  several  girls  among 
my  servants  from  this  vicinity  who  look  charming 
in  their  peasant  costumes." 

Egon  shuddered  at  the  thought  of  his  female  ser- 
vants "with  wagging  heads,"  whom  he  still  em- 
ployed under  Stadinger's  careful  eye,  but  he  had 
speculated  correctly.  His  gracious  aunt  was  indig- 
nant and  measured  him  with  an  annihilating  glance. 

"So?    You  have  such  as  that  at  Rodeck!" 

"Certainly.  There  is  Lena  in  particular,  the 
granddaughter  of  my  steward,  a  charming  little 
thing,  and  when  you  give  me  the  honor  of  your  visit, 
most  gracious  aunt " 

"I  shall  leave  it  alone,"  interrupted  the  incensed 
lady,  using  her  fan  violently.  "It  must  be  a  pecu- 
liar household  which  you  carry  on  at  Rodeck  with 
the  young  foreigner  whom  you  have,  perhaps,  also 
brought  as  a  curiosity  from  your  travels.  He  has 
the  face  of  a  perfect  brigand." 

"My  friend  Rojanow !  He  has  been  pining  a  long 
time  to  be  presented  to  Your  Highness.  You  per- 
mit it,  I  hope?" 

Without  waiting  for  an  answer  he  hastened  away 
and  took  possession  of  Hartmut. 

"Now  it  is  your  turn,"  he  whispered,  dragging 
him  along  unceremoniously.  "I  have  been  the  vic- 
tim long  enough,  and  my  most  precious  aunt  has  to 
have  some  one  whom  she  can  roast  slowly.  She  in- 
sists upon  marrying  me  off-hand,  and  you  have  the 
face  of  a  perfect  brigand,  but,  thank  God !  she  does 
not  come  to  Rodeck.  I  have  taken  care  of  that !" 

In  the  next  moment  he  stood  before  Her  High- 
ness, introducing  his  friend  with  his  blandest  smile. 


CHAPTER  XXII. 

HERR  VON  WALLMODEN  had  lingered  in  the  circle 
a  few  moments  after  the  departure  of  the  Princess ; 
then,  with  his  wife  on  his  arm,  he  walked  slowly 
through  the  suite  of  rooms,  greeting  an  acquaintance 
here,  conversing  briefly  there,  until  they  finally 
reached  the  last  of  the  reception  rooms,  which  was 
rather  deserted. 

The  tower  room,  opening  directly  from  this,  was 
not  generally  used  in  entertainments,  but  for  to- 
night it  had  been  transformed  into  a  small,  cosy 
apartment  with  curtains  and  carpets  and  a  pictur- 
esque group  of  plants,  and,  with  its  dim  lights, 
offered  a  pleasing  contrast  to  the  blinding  flood  of 
light  and  the  commotion  of  the  other  rooms. 

It  was  quite  vacant  now,  which  the  Ambassador 
seemed  to  have  counted  upon  when  he  entered  with 
his  wife  and  offered  her  a  seat  upon  a  divan. 

"I  must  draw  your  attention  to  the  fact,  Adelaide, 
that  you  did  an  unwise  thing  just  now,"  he  began 
in  a  low  tone.  "Your  remark  to  the  Princess " 

"Was  self-defense,"  finished  the  young  wife. 
"You  must  have  felt,  as  well  as  I  did,  what  the  ob- 
ject of  the  conversation  was." 

"Nevertheless,  at  your  first  appearance  you  have 
made  for  yourself  an  antagonist  whose  enmity  can 
materially  render  your  own  and  my  position  more 
difficult." 

"Yours?"     Adelaide  looked  at  him  in  surprise. 

Wl 


THE    SIGN    OF   FLAME. 

"Are  you,  the  Ambassador  of  a  great  power,  to  ask 
the  grace  of  a  malicious  woman  who  happens  to  be 
related  to  a  ducal  family?" 

"My  child,  you  do  not  understand,"  returned 
Wallmoden  coldly.  "An  intriguing  woman  can  be 
more  dangerous  than  a  political  opponent,  and  Prin- 
cess Sophie  is  well  known  in  that  line.  Even  the 
Duchess  is  known  to  be  in  fear  of  her  malicious 
tongue." 

"That  is  the  Duchess'  affair.  I  am  not  in  fear 
of  it." 

"My  dear  Adelaide,"  said  the  Ambassador,  with  a 
superior  smile,  "that  proud  turn  of  your  head  is  very 
becoming  to  you,  and  I  approve  entirely  of  your 
making  yourself  unapproachable  with  it  in  other 
circles,  but  you  will  have  to  leave  it  off  at  Court,  as 
well  as  several  other  things.  One  does  not  give 
royalty  a  lesson  before  so  many  observers,  and  you 
did  that  when  you  spoke  of  the  refusal  of  the  title. 
In  any  case,  it  was  not  necessary  for  you  to  lay  so 
much  stress  upon  the  descent  of  your  father." 

"Should  I  perhaps  have  denied  it?" 

"No,  for  it  is  a  well-known  fact." 

"Of  which  I  am  as  proud  as  was  my  father." 

"But  you  are  not  Adelaide  Stahlberg  any  longer, 
but  the  Baroness  Wallmoden."  The  voice  of  the 
Ambassador  had  acquired  a  certain  sharpness.  "And 
you  will  admit  that  it  is  very  contradictory  to  boast 
of  your  burgher  pride  when  you  have  given  your 
hand  to  a  man  of  the  old  nobility." 

A  slight  bitterness  quivered  around  the  lips  of  the 
young  wife,  and  although  the  conversation  had  been 
carried  on  in  low  tones,  her  voice  sank  even  lower  as 
she  returned :  "Perhaps  you  have  forgotten,  Her- 
Jjert,  why  I  gave  you  my  hand," 


THE    SIGN   OF   FLAME.  175 

''Have  you  had  cause  to  regret  it?"  he  asked  in- 
stead of  replying. 

"No,"  said  Adelaide,  drawing  a  deep  breath. 

"I  should  think  you  could  be  satisfied  with  the 
position  you  have  at  my  side.  Besides,  you  remem- 
ber that  I  did  not  compel  you.  I  left  you  perfectly 
free  choice." 

The  wife  was  silent,  but  the  bitter  expression  did 
not  leave  her  lips. 

Wallmoden  arose  and  offered  his  arm. 

"You  must  permit  me,  my  child,  to  come  to  your 
assistance  sometimes  in  your  inexperience,"  he  said 
in  his  usual  polite  tone.  "So  far  I  have  had  every 
reason  to  be  satisfied  with  your  tact  and  manner. 
To-day  is  the  first  time  I  have  had  to  give  you  a 
hint.  May  I  ask  if  you  are  ready  to  return?" 

"I  should  like  to  remain  here  a  few  moments 
longer,"  said  Adelaide  in  a  smothered  voice.  "It 
is  so  insufferably  hot  in  the  salons." 

"Just  as  you  desire,  but  I  beg  that  you  will  not 
remain  too  long,  as  your  absence  would  cause  re- 
mark." 

He  saw  and  felt  that  she  was  offended,  but  found 
it  expedient  not  to  notice  it.  Baron  Wallmoden, 
in  spite  of  all  his  politeness  and  attention,  under- 
stood that  in  the  training  of  his  wife  such  kinds  of 
sentiment  must  not  be  encouraged.  He  left  the 
room,  and  Adelaide  remained  alone.  She  leaned 
her  head  upon  her  hand,  and  with  unseeing  eyes 
stared  at  the  group  of  plants  near  her,  whispering 

almost  inaudibly:    "Free  choice — O,  my  God!" 

*  *   "          *  *  *  # 

In  the  meantime  Prince  Adelsberg  and  his  friend 
were  being  most  graciously  dismissed.  They  bowed 
low  before  the  Princess,  who  arose  and  left  the 


176  THE    SIGX   OF   FLAME. 

salon  with  an  unusually  mild  expression  on  her 
sharp  features. 

"Hartmut,  I  believe  you  can  magnetize,"  said 
Egon  under  his  breath.  "I  have  seen  many  exam- 
ples of  your  irresistibility,  but  that  my  most  gra- 
cious aunt  has  a  regular  attack  of  affability  in  your 
presence  is  something  never  heard  of  before.  It 
puts  all  your  other  victories  into  the  shade." 

"Well,  the  reception  was  cool  enough,"  laughed 
Hartmut.  "Her  Highness  really  seemed  to  take  me 
for  a  brigand  at  first." 

"But  in  ten  minutes  you  stood  in  the  full  sunshine 
of  her  grace,  and  have  been  dismissed  a  prime  fa- 
vorite. Do  tell  me  what  you  have  in  you  that  every- 
body, without  exception,  bows  to  your  charm.  One 
might  well  believe  in  the  old  fairy  tale  of  the  rat- 
catcher." 

Again  the  harsh,  repulsive  sarcasm  which  took  for 
a  moment  every  beauty  from  his  face,  passed  over 
Hartmut's  lips,  giving  him  a  satanic  expression. 

"I  understand  how  to  play  the  thing  they  like  best 
to  hear.  It  has  a  different  sound  to  every  one,  but 
if  one  knows  how  to  strike  the  right  chord,  none 
can  resist  it." 

"None?"  repeated  Egon,  while  his  glance  passed 
searchingly  through  the  room. 

"Not  one,  I  tell  you." 

"Yes,  you  are  a  pessimist  in  this  respect.  I  at 
least  recognize  some  exceptions.  If  I  only  knew 
where  Frau  von  Wallmoden  was.  I  cannot  see  her 
anywhere." 

"His  Excellency  is  probably  reading  her  a  lecture 
upon  the  undiplomatic  remark  of  a  short  time 
since." 

"Did  you  also  hear  it?"  asked  Egon  quickly. 


THE    SIGN   OF   FLAME.  177 

"Yes;  I  stood  in  the  door." 

"Well,  I  do  not  in  the  least  begrudge  our  most 
gracious  one  the  lesson.  Naturally  she  was  beside 
herself  about  it,  but  do  you  really  believe  that  the 
Ambassador Hush!  there  he  is  himself." 

It  was,  indeed,  the  Ambassador  before  them,  just 
returning  from  the  tower  room.  An  encounter  now 
could  not  be  avoided,  and  the  young  Prince,  who  had 
no  idea  of  the  existing  connection,  hastened  to  in- 
troduce his  friend. 

"Allow  me,  Your  Excellency,  to  make  good  a 
neglect  which  was  forced  upon  me  that  day  upon 
the  Hochberg  by  the  disappearance  of  my  friend. 
I  only  found  him  after  your  departure.  Herr  Hart- 
mut  Rojanow,  Baron  von  Wallmoden." 

The  eyes  of  the  two  men  met.  The  sharp,  pene- 
trating eyes  of  the  one  met  the  expression  of  chal- 
lenging defiance  in  the  other,  but  Wallmoden  would 
not  have  been  the  finished  diplomat  he  was  if  he  were 
not  equal  to  the  present  moment. 

His  greeting  was  cool  but  polite,  only  he  turned 
to  the  Prince  alone  with  his  answer,  regretting  not 
being  able  to  chat  with  the  gentlemen,  since  he  was 
called  to  the  Duke. 

The  whole  meeting  had  lasted  but  two  minutes, 
but  it  had  taken  place. 

"His  Excellency  is  more  taciturn  to-day  than 
usual,"  remarked  Egon,  walking  on.  "Whenever 
I  see  this  cold,  diplomatic  face  before  me  I  have  a 
chill,  and  feel  a  pressing  desire  to  seek  warmer 
zones." 

"Therefore  we  follow  so  persistently  the  track  of 
the  beautiful,  cold  aurora,"  said  Hartmut,  teasingly. 
"Whom  do  we  really  seek  in  this  walk  through  the 
rooms  which  you  continue  so  untiringly?" 


178  THE    SIGN   OF    FLAME. 

"The  Chief  Forester,"  said  the  Prince,  vexed  at 
seeing  himself  betrayed.  "I  wish  to  make  you  ac- 
quainted with  him,  but  you  are  in  one  of  your  railing 
moods  to-day.  Perhaps  I  may  find  Schonan  over 
yonder  in  the  armory.  I  shall  look  there." 

He  took  a  speedy  departure,  and  actually  turned 
his  steps  to  the  armory,  where  the  ducal  couple  was 
at  present,  and  where  he  also  believed  Adelaide  von 
Wallmoden  to  be.  But,  unfortunately,  at  the  en- 
trance he  again  crossed  the  path  of  his  most  gra- 
cious aunt,  who  took  possession  of  him.  She  wished 
for  more  particulars  of  the  interesting  young  Rou- 
manian who  stood,  indeed,  in  the  sunlight  of  her 
favor,  and  her  impatient  nephew  had  to  answer  all 
her  questions  willingly  or  otherwise. 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 

THE  fete  progressed ;  the  assembly  glided  to  and 
fro  as  Hartmut  walked  slowly  and  apparently  pur- 
poselessly through  the  long  suite  of  reception  rooms. 
He,  too,  looked  for  some  one,  and  was  more  success- 
ful than  Egon.  A  hasty  glance  into  the  tower  room, 
the  entrance  of  which  was  partly  concealed  by  heavy 
portieres,  showed  him  the  hem  of  a  white  train 
which  floated  over  the  floor,  and  the  next  moment 
he  had  crossed  the  threshold. 

Adelaide  von  Wallmoden  was  still  sitting  in  the 
same  position,  and  slowly  turned  her  head  toward 
the  intruder.  Suddenly  she  started,  but  only  for 
an  instant,  then  with  her  habitual  composure  she  re- 
turned the  deep  bow  of  the  young  man  who  remained 
standing  at  the  door. 

"I  hope  I  have  not  disturbed  Your  Excellency," 
he  said.  "I  fear  you  came  here  for  solitude  into 
which  I  have  broken  suddenly,  but  it  happens  quite 
unintentionally." 

''I  only  took  refuge  here  from  the  smothering  heat 
of  the  salons." 

"The  same  cause  brought  me  here,  and  since  I 
did  not  have  the  honor  to-day  to  greet  you,  permit 
me  to  do  so  now." 

The  words  sounded  very  formal.  Rojanow  had 
drawn  nearer,  but  remained  standing  at  a  respec- 
table distance.  Nevertheless,  the  start  at  his  en- 
trance had  not  been  passed  by  unobserved  by  him. 

179 


180  THE    SIGN   OF   FLAME. 

A  peculiar  smile  hovered  around  his  lips  as  he  di- 
rected his  eyes  upon  the  young  Baroness. 

She  had  made  a  gesture  as  if  to  rise  and  leave  the 
room,  but  seemed  to  remember  in  time  that  so  sud- 
den a  move  would  look  like  flight.  She  remained 
seated  and  leaned  over  the  plants.  Absently  she 
picked  one  of  the  large  crimson  japonicas  as  she 
replied  to  the  question  about  her  health,  but  that 
line  of  severe  will-power  appeared  again,  sharply 
and  distinctly,  just  as  in  that  moment  when  she 
stood  in  the  middle  of  the  brook.  That  day  she 
had  stepped  without  hesitation  into  ankle-deep  water 
rather  than  accept  the  help  which  was  offered  her; 
but  that  had  occurred  in  the  forest  loneliness.  No 
such  obstacle  had  to  be  overcome  here  in  the  ducal 
castle,  filled  with  the  pomp  of  a  fete;  but  the  man 
with  the  dark,  consuming  glance  was  here,  and  he 
did  not  remove  his  eyes  from  her  face. 

"Shall  you  remain  at  Rodeck  any  length  of  time  ?" 
asked  Adelaide  in  the  indifferent  tone  with  which 
remarks  are  exchanged  in  society. 

"Probably  a  few  weeks  longer.  Prince  Adelsberg 
will  hardly  leave  his  castle  as  long  as  the  Duke  is  at 
Furstenstein.  I  intend  to  accompany  him  to  the 
Residenz  later  on." 

"And  we  shall  then  learn  to  know  you  as  a 
poet?" 

"Me,  Your  Excellency?" 

"I  learned  so  from  the  Prince." 

"Oh,  that  is  only  Egon's  idea,"  said  Hartmut, 
lightly.  "He  has  settled  it  in  his  mind  that  he  must 
see  my  Arivana  upon  the  stage." 

"Arivana!     A  strange  title." 

"It  is  an  Oriental  name  for  an  Indian  legend, 
whose  poetical  charm  had  prepossessed  me  so 


THE    SIGN   OF   FLAME.  181 

strangely  that  I  could  not  resist  the  temptation  to 
form  it  into  a  drama." 

"And  the  heroine  of  the  drama  is  Arivana?" 

"No;  that  is  only  the  name  of  an  ancient,  sacred 
spot,  around  which  this  legend  clings.  The  name  of 
the  heroine  is — Ada." 

Rojanow  uttered  the  name  softly,  hesitatingly; 
but  his  eyes  flamed  up  triumphantly,  as  he  saw 
again  the  same  slight  quiver  he  had  seen  at  his  en- 
trance. Slowly  he  approached  a  few  steps,  con- 
tinuing :  "I  heard  the  name  for  the  first  time  upon 
India's  soil,  and  it  had  a  sweet  foreign  sound  for 
me,  which  I  retained  for  my  heroine,  and  now  I 
learn  here  that  the  abbreviation  of  a  German  name 
is  just  like  it." 

"Of  the  name  Adelaide — yes.  I  was  always 
called  so  at  home ;  but  it  is  nothing  peculiar  that  the 
same  sounds  return  in  different  languages." 

The  words  sounded  repellent,  but  the  young  wife 
did  not  lift  her  eyes;  she  gazed  fixedly  upon  the 
flower  with  which  her  fingers  toyed. 

"Certainly  not,"  assented  Hartmut;  "I  only  no- 
ticed it.  It  was  no  surprise,  since  all  legends  are 
repeated  in  all  nations.  They  have  a  greater  or  less 
difference  in  appearance,  but  that  which  lives  in 
them — the  passion,  the  happiness  and  joy  of  the  peo- 
ple— that  is  the  same  everywhere." 

Adelaide  shrugged  her  shoulders. 

"I  cannot  argue  about  that  with  a  poet,  but  I  do 
believe  that  our  German  legends  possess  other  fea- 
tures than  the  Indian  dreams  of  myths." 

"Perhaps  so,  but  if  you  look  deeper  you  will  find 
these  features  familiar.  This  Arivana  myth,  at 
least,  has  similar  lines.  The  hero,  a  young  priest 
who  has  consecrated  body  and  soul  to  his  deity — • 


182  THE   SIGN   OF   FLAME. 

the  sacred,  burning  fire — is  overwhelmed  by  earthly 
love,  with  all  its  fervor  and  passion,  until  his 
priestly  vow  perishes  in  its  intensity." 

He  stood  quietly  and  respectfully  before  her,  but 
his  voice  had  a  strangely  suppressed  sound,  as  if, 
hidden  behind  this  narrative,  there  was  another  and 
secret  meaning. 

Suddenly  the  Baroness  raised  her  eyes  and  di- 
rected them  fully  and  seriously  upon  the  face  of  the 
speaker.  "And — the  end?" 

"The  end  is  death,  as  in  most  mystic  legends.  The 
breaking  of  the  vow  is  discovered,  and  the  guilty 
ones  are  sacrificed  to  the  offended  deity;  the  priest 
dies  in  the  flames  with  the  woman  he  loves." 

A  short  pause  followed.  Adelaide  arose  with  a 
rapid  movement.  She  apparently  wished  to  break 
off  the  conversation. 

"You  are  right;  this  legend  has  something 
familiar,  if  it  were  only  the  old  doctrine  of  guilt  and 
atonement." 

"Do  you  call  that  guilt,  gracious  lady?"  Hart- 
mut  suddenly  dropped  the  formal  title.  "Well,  yes, 
by  man  it  is  called  guilt,  and  they  too  punish  it  with 
death,  without  thinking  that  such  punishment  can 
be  ecstasy.  To  perish  in  the  flames  after  having 
tasted  of  the  highest  earthly  happiness,  and  to  em- 
brace this  happiness  even  in  death — that  is  a  glori- 
ous, divine  death,  worthy  a  long  life  of  dull  mo- 
notony. The  eternal,  undying  right  of  love  glows 
there  like  signs  of  flame  in  the  sky,  in  spite  of  all 
laws  of  mankind.  Do  you  not  think  such  an  end 
enviable  ?" 

A  slight  paleness  covered  the  face  of  the  Baro- 
ness, but  her  voice  was  firm  as  she  answered : 

"No;  enviable  only  is  death  for  an  exalted,  holy 


THE   SIGN   OF   FLAME.  183 

duty — the  sacrifice  of  a  pure  life.  One  can  forgive 
sin,  but  one  does  not  admire  it." 

Hartmut  bit  his  lips,  and  a  threatening  glance 
rested  on  the  white  figure  which  stood  so  solemn 
and  unapproachable  before  him.  Then  he  smiled. 

"A  hard  judgment,  which  strikes  my  work  also, 
for  I  have  put  my  whole  power  into  the  glorifica- 
tion of  this  love  and  death.  If  the  world  judge  like 
you Ah,  permit  me,  gracious  lady." 

He  quickly  approached  the  divan  where  she  had 
been  sitting,  where,  with  her  fan,  the  japonica  also 
had  been  left. 

"Thank  you,"  said  Adelaide,  stretching  out  her 
hand ;  but  he  gave  her  only  the  fan. 

"Your  pardon.  While  I  was  composing  my 
Arivana  on  the  veranda  of  a  small  house  in  India, 
this  flower  bloomed  and  glowed  from  its  dark  green 
foliage  everywhere,  and  now  it  greets  me  here  in  the 
cold  North.  May  I  keep  this  flower?" 

Adelaide  made  a  half  reluctant  gesture. 

"No,  why  should  you  ?" 

"Why  should  I?  For  a  remembrance  of  the 
severe  opinion  from  the  lips  of  a  lady  who  bears  the 
lovely  name  of  my  mystic  heroine.  You  see,  gra- 
cious lady,  that  the  white  japonica  blooms  here 
also,  delicate,  snowy  flower;  but  unconsciously  you 
broke  the  glowing  red  one,  and  poets  are  supersti- 
tious. Leave  me  the  flower  as  a  token  that  my 
work,  in  spite  of  all,  may  find  favor  in  your  eyes 
after  you  learn  to  know  it.  You  have  no  idea  how 
much  it  means  to  me." 

"Herr  Rojanow — I "  She  was  about  to 

utter  a  refusal,  but  he  interrupted  her,  and  con- 
tinued in  low,  but  passionate,  tones : 

"What  is  a  single  flower  to  you,  broken  carelessly, 


184  THE    SIGN"    OF   FLAME. 

and  which  you  will  allow  to  fade  as  carelessly  * 
But  to  me — leave  me  this  token,  gracious  lady;  I— 
I  beg  for  it." 

He  stood  close  beside  her.  The  charm  which  he, 
as  a  boy,  had  unconsciously  exerted  when  he  mad? 
people  "defenseless"  with  his  coaxing,  he,  as  a  man, 
recognized  as  a  power  which  never  failed,  and 
which  he  knew  how  to  use.  His  voice  bore  again 
that  soft,  suppressed  tone  which  charmed  the  ear 
like  music;  and  his  eyes  —  those  dark,  mysterious 
eyes — were  fixed  upon  the  girl  before  him  with  a 
half  gloomy,  half  beseeching  expression. 

The  paleness  of  her  face  had  deepened,  but  she 
did  not  answer. 

"I  beg  of  you,"  he  repeated,  more  lowly,  more 
beseechingly,  as  he  pressed  the  glowing  flower  to  his 
lips ;  but  the  very  gesture  broke  the  spell.  Adelaide 
suddenly  drew  herself  up. 

"I  must  ask  you,  Herr  Rojanow,  to  return  the 
flower  to  me.  I  intended  it  for  my  husband." 

"Ah,  so?     I  beg  your  pardon,  Your  Excellency." 

He  handed  her  the  flower  with  a  deep  bow,  which 
she  accepted  with  a  barely  noticeable  inclination  of 
the  head.  Then  the  heavy  white  train  glided  past 
him,  and  he  was  alone. 

In  vain!     Everything  glided  off  this  icy  nature. 

Hartmut  stamped  his  foot  angrily.  Only  ten 
minutes  ago  he  had  passed  such  harsh  judgment  on 
all  women,  without  an  exception,  to  the  Prince. 
Now  he  had  sung  again  that  charming  tune  which 
he  had  tried  so  often  successfully,  and  had  found 
one  who  resisted  it.  But  the  proud,  spoiled  man 
would  not  believe  that  he  could  lose  the  game  which 
he  had  won  so  often,  when  just  here  he  was  so  anx- 
ious to  win  it 


THE    SIGN    OF   FLAME.  185 

And  would  it  really  remain  only  a  game?  He 
had  not  as  yet  accounted  to  himself  for  it,  but  he  felt 
that  the  passion  which  drew  him  to  the  beautiful 
woman  was  mingled  at  times  with  hatred. 

They  were  conflicting  emotions  which  had  been 
deeply  stirred  when  he  wralked  by  her  side  through 
the  forest — half  admiring,  half  repellent.  But  it 
was  just  that  which  made  the  chase  so  interesting 
to  the  practised  huntsman. 

Love !  The  high,  pure  meaning  of  the  word  had 
remained  foreign  to  the  son  of  Zalika.  When  he 
learned  to  feel,  he  was  living  at  his  mother's  side, 
she  who  had  made  such  shameful  play  of  her  hus- 
band's love;  and  the  women  with  whom  she  asso- 
ciated were  no  better.  The  later  life  which  she  led 
with  her  son,  unsettled  and  adventurous,  with  no 
firm  ground  under  their  feet,  had  finally  crushed  out 
the  last  remnant  of  idealism  in  the  young  man.  He 
learned  to  despise  before  he  learned  to  love,  and 
now  he  felt  the  merited  humiliation  given  him  to  be 
an  insult. 

"Struggle  on,"  he  muttered;  "you  battle  against 
yourself.  I  have  seen  and  felt  it;  and  the  one  who 
does  that,  does  not  conquer  in  such  a  struggle." 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 

A  SLIGHT  noise  at  the  entrance  caused  Hartmut 
to  look  up.  It  was  the  Ambassador  who  appeared 
on  the  threshold,  casting  a  searching  glance  into  the 
room.  He  came  for  his  wife,  whom  he  thought 
still  there. 

He  started  at  sight  of  Hartmut,  and  for  a 
moment  seemed  undecided.  Then  he  said,  half 
audibly:  "Herr  Rojanow." 

"Your  Excellency." 

"I  should  like  to  speak  to  you  privately." 

"I  am  at  your  service." 

Wallmoden  entered,  but  took  up  his  position  so  as 
to  keep  the  entrance  in  view.  It  was  hardly  neces- 
sary, for  the  doors  of  the  dining  room  had  just  been 
thrown  open,  and  the  whole  assembly  floated  there. 
The  salon  adjoining  the  tower  room  was  already 
empty. 

"I  am  surprised  to  see  you  here,"  the  Ambassa- 
dor began  in  suppressed  tones,  but  with  the  same 
insulting  coldness  which  he  had  shown  at  the  first 
meeting,  and  which  brought  the  blood  to  the  young 
man's  brow.  He  drew  himself  up  threateningly. 

"Why,  Your  Excellency?" 

"The  question  is  superfluous.  At  any  rate,  I  re- 
quest you  not  to  again  force  me  into  the  position  I 
was  brought  into  a  short  while  ago,  when  Prince 
Adelsberg  introduced  you  to  me." 

"The  forced  position  was  mine,"  returned  Hart- 

186 


THE    SIGN   OF   FLAME.  187 

mut,  just  as  sharply.  "I  will  not  assert  that  you 
consider  me  an  intruder  here,  for  you,  best  of  all, 
know  that  I  have  a  right  to  this  intercourse." 

"Hartmut  von  Falkenried  would  have  had  a 
right,  of  course;  but  that  has  changed." 

"Herr  von  Wallmoden!" 

"Not  so  loud,  if  you  please,"  interrupted  the  Am- 
bassador. "We  might  be  overheard,  and  it  would 
surely  not  be  desirable  to  you  that  the  name  I  just 
now  uttered  should  be  heard  by  outsiders." 

"It  is  true  that  at  present  I  carry  my  mother's 
name,  to  which  I  surely  have  a  right.  If  I  laid 
aside  the  other,  it  happened  out  of  considera- 
tion  " 

"For  your  father,"  finished  Wallmoden,  with 
heavy  emphasis. 

Hartmut  started.  This  was  an  allusion  which  he 
could  not  bear  yet. 

"Yes,"  he  replied,  curtly.  "I  confess  that  it 
would  be  painful  to  me  if  I  were  forced  to  break  this 
consideration." 

"And  why?  Your  role  here  would  be  played 
out,  anyway." 

Rojanow  stepped  close  to  the  Ambassador  with  a 
passionate  gesture. 

"You  are  the  friend  of  my  father,  Herr  von  Wall-, 
moden,  and  I  have  called  you  uncle  in  my  boyhood ; 
but  you  forget  that  I  am  no  longer  the  boy  whom 
you  could  lecture  and  master  at  that  time.  The 
grown  man  looks  at  it  as  an  insult." 

"I  intend  neither  to  offend  you  nor  to  renew  old 
connections,  which  neither  of  us  consider  as  exist- 
ing," said  Wallmoden,  coldly.  "If  I  desired  this 
conversation,  it  was  to  declare  to  you  that  it  will  not 
be  possible  to  me,  in  my  official  position,  to  see  you 


188  THE    SIGX    OF    FLAME. 

in  intercourse  with  the  Court,  and  be  silent  when  it 
would  be  my  duty  to  enlighten  the  Duke." 

"Enlighten  the  Duke!     About  what?" 

"About  several  things  which  are  not  known  here 
and  which  have  probably  remained  unknown  to 
Prince  Adelsberg.  Please  do  not  fly  into  a  passion, 
Herr  Rojanow.  I  would  do  this  only  in  an  extreme 
case,  for  I  have  to  spare  a  friend.  I  know  how  a 
certain  incident  hurt  him  ten  years  ago,  which  is 
now  forgotten  and  buried  in  our  country,  and,  if  all 
this  should  come  up  again  and  be  brought  into  pub- 
licity, Colonel  Falkenried  would  die  of  it." 

Hartmut  blanched.  The  defiant  reply  did  not 
cross  his  lips.  "He  would  die  of  it."  The  awful 
word.,  the  truth  of  which  he  felt  only  too  well, 
forced  aside  for  the  moment  even  the  insult  of  the 
remark. 

"I  owe  my  father  alone  an  account  of  that  occa- 
sion," he  replied  in  a  painfully  suppressed  voice; 
"only  him  and  nobody  else." 

"He  will  hardly  ask  for  it.  His  son  is  dead  to 
him;  but  let  that  rest.  I  speak  especially  now  of 
later  years ;  of  your  stay  at  Rome  and  Paris,  where 
you  lived  with  your  mother  in  lavish  style,  although 
the  estates  in  Roumania  had  had  to  be  sacrificed  at  a 
forced  sale." 

"You  seem  to  be  all-knowing,  Your  Excellency !" 
hissed  Rojanow  in  great  anger.  "We  had  no  idea 
that  we  were  under  such  conscientious  surveillance. 
We  lived  upon  the  balance  of  our  fortune  which  had 
been  rescued  from  the  wreck." 

"Nothing  was  rescued;  the  money  was  entirely 
lost — to  the  last  penny." 

"That  is  not  true,"  interrupted  Hartmut, 
stormily. 


.THE    SIGN   OF   FLAME.  189 

"It  is  true.  Am  I  really  better  informed  about 
it  than  you?"  The  voice  of  the  Ambassador 
sounded  cuttingly  sharp.  "It  is  possible  that  Frau 
Rojanow  did  not  want  her  son  informed  of  the 
source  from  which  she  derived  her  means,  and  left 
him  in  error  about  it  intentionally.  I  know  the 
circumstances.  If  they  have  remained  unknown  to 
you- — so  much  the  better  for  you." 

"Take  care  not  to  insult  my  mother,"  the  young 
man  burst^forth;  "or  I  shall  forget  that  your  hair  is 
gray,  and  demand  satisfaction." 

"For  what?  For  a  statement  for  which  I  can 
produce  the  proofs  ?  Lay  aside  such  foolishness,  of 
which  I  shall  take  no  notice.  She  was  your  mother, 
and  is  dead  now;  therefore  we  will  go  no  deeper 
into  this  point.  I  should  only  like  to  put  this  ques- 
tion to  you :  Do  you  intend,  even  after  this  conver- 
sation, to  remain  here  and  appear  in  the  circle  into 
which  Prince  Adelsberg  has  introduced  you?" 

Hartmut  had  turned  deathly  pale  at  the  hint  of 
the  muddy  origin  of  his  mother's  means,  and  the 
numb  terror  with  which  he  looked  at  the  speaker  be- 
trayed that  he  indeed  knew  nothing  about  it.  But 
at  this  last  question  he  regained  his  composure. 

His  flashing  eyes  met  those  of  his  opponent,  and 
a  wild  decision  sounded  in  his  voice  as  he  replied: 
"Yes,  Herr  von  Wallmoden,  I  remain." 

The  Ambassador  did  not  seem  to  have  expected 
this  defiance;  he  probably  thought  to  have  accom- 
plished the  matter  more  easily,  but  he  retained  his 
composure. 

"Really?  Well,  you  are  accustomed  to  playing  a 
high  hand,  and  you  seem  to  wish  here  also — but 
hush !  Some  one  is  coming.  Reconsider  the  mat- 
ter, perhaps  you  will  change  your  mind." 


190  THE    SIGN   OF   FLAME. 

He  quickly  entered  the  adjoining  room,  in  which 
the  Chief  Forester  now  appeared. 

"Where  have  you  hidden  yourself,  Herbert?"  he 
asked,  when  he  beheld  the  Ambassador.  "I  have 
looked  everywhere  for  you." 

"I  wished  to  find  my  wife." 

"She  is  already  in  the  dining  room,  like  every- 
body else,  and  where  you  are  being  missed.  Come, 
it  is  high  time  that  we  get  something  to  eat." 

Herr  von  Schonan  took  possession  of  his  brother- 
in-law  in  his  ever  jovial  manner  and  went  off  with 
him. 

Hartmut  stood  still  in  his  place.  He  struggled 
for  breath ;  the  excitement  threatened  to  choke  him. 
Shame,  hatred,  anger,  all  floated  wildly  through  his 
heart.  That  hint  of  Wallmoden's  had  hurt  him  ter- 
ribly, although  he  but  half  understood  it.  It  tore 
asunder  the  veil  with  which  he  had  half  uncon- 
sciously, half  intentionally  shrouded  the  truth.  He 
had,  indeed,  believed  that  a  remnant  of  their  wealth, 
rescued  from  the  wreck,  had  given  him  and  his 
mother  their  income.  But  it  was  not  the  first  time 
that  he  had  shut  his  eyes  to  what  he  did  not  wish  to 
see. 

He  had  enjoyed  life  in  deep  draughts  without 
calling  himself  to  account  for  it  when  the  hand  of 
his  mother  had  so  suddenly  torn  him  from  the  en- 
forced paternal  education  into  unlimited  freedom; 
when  he  exchanged  the  routine  of  the  strictest 
duties  for  a  life  full  of  intoxicating  enjoyments. 
He  had  then  been  too  young  to  judge,  and  later  on 
— it  was  then  too  late;  habit  and  example  had 
woven  too  unyielding  a  net  around  him.  Now,  for 
the  first  time,  it  was  being  shown  him  clearly  and 
unmistakably  what  the  life  was  that  he  had  led  so 


THE    SIGN    OF    FLAME.  191 

long — the  life  of  an  adventurer;  and  as  an  adven- 
turer he  had  been  pointed  out  the  exit  from  society. 

But  hotter  than  the  shame  of  that  burned  the 
affront  which  had  been  given  him,  and  hatred  for 
the  man  who  had  forced  this  indisputable  truth  upon 
him.  The  unfortunate  inheritance  from  his  mother, 
the  hot,  wild  blood  which  had  once  been  fatal  to  the 
boy,  welled  up  like  a  stream  of  fire,  and  every  other 
thought  went  down  in  a  sensation,  wild  and  limit- 
less, of  thirst  for  revenge. 

His  handsome  features  were  distorted  beyond 
recognition  when  he  finally  left  the  room,  with 
tightly  closed  teeth.  He  knew  and  felt  but  one 
thing — that  he  must  have  revenge — revenge  at  any 
price ! 


CHAPTER  XXV. 

IT  was  very  late  when  the  fete  came  to  an  end. 
After  the  withdrawal  of  the  ducal  couple,  a  general 
move  for  departure  took  place.  Carriage  after  car- 
riage rolled  down  the  Schlossberg;  the  bright  lights 
were  extinguished,  and  Furstenstein  began  to 
shroud  itself  in  darkness  and  silence. 

In  the  apartments  devoted  to  the  Ambassador  and 
his  wife,  however,  the  lights  still  burned. 

Adelaide  stood  at  the  window  in  her  rich  robe  of 
the  fete  and  looked  out  into  the  night  like  one  lost 
in  thought,  but  it  was  with  a  peculiar,  weary  ges- 
ture that  she  leaned  her  head  against  the  window 
panes. 

Wallmoden  sat  at  the  writing  table,  glancing 
through  some  letters  and  dispatches  which  had  ar- 
rived in  the  last  hour.  They  seemed  to  contain  im- 
portant news,  for  he  did  not  lay  them  aside  with 
other  papers  to  receive  attention  to-morrow  morn- 
ing, but  grasped  a  pen  and  hastily  wrote  a  few  lines, 
then  arose  and  quickly  approached  his  wife. 

"This  comes  unexpectedly,"  he  said.  "I  shall 
have  to  go  to  Berlin." 

Adelaide  turned  in  surprise.     "So  suddenly?" 

"Yes;  I  thought  to  accomplish  this  very  serious 
affair  by  letter,  but  the  Minister  expressly  desires  a 
personal  interview.  Therefore  I  shall  take  leave  of 
the  Duke  to-morrow  morning  for  a  period  of  about 
a  week,  and  depart  immediately." 

The  young  bride's  features  could  not  be  distin- 

XM 


THE    SIGN"    OF   FLAME.  193 

guished  in  the  semi-darkness,  but  her  breast  heaved 
with  a  deep  sigh,  which  betrayed  a  perhaps  uncon- 
scious relief. 

''At  what  hour  do  we  leave?"  she  asked  quickly; 
"I  should  like  to  notify  my  maid." 

"We?  This  is  entirely  a  business  trip,  and, 
naturally,  I  go  alone." 

"But  I  could  accompany  you." 

"What  for?  You  understand  that  it  means  an 
absence  of  only  a  week  or  two." 

"No  matter.  I — I  should  like  to  see  Berlin 
again." 

"What  a  whim !"  said  Wallmoden,  shrugging  his 
shoulders.  "I  shall  be  so  occupied  this  time  that  I 
could  not  accompany  you  anywhere." 

The  young  wife  had  approached  the  table  and 
now  stood  in  the  full  light  of  the  lamp.  She  was 
much  paler  than  usual,  and  her  voice  had  a  sup- 
pressed sound  as  she  returned:  "Well,  then,  I  shall 
go  home.  I  should  really  not  like  to  remain  here 
alone  at  tntrstenstein  without  you." 

"Alone?"  The  Ambassador  looked  at  her  in  as- 
tonishment. "You  will  be  with  our  relatives,  whose 
guests  we  are.  How  long  have  you  been  so  desir- 
ous of  protection  ?  It  is  a  thing  I  have  not  observed 
in  you  so  far.  I  do  not  understand  you,  Adelaide. 
What  is  this  strange  caprice  of  wishing  to  accom- 
pany me  at  all  hazards?" 

"Accept  it  as  a  caprice,  then,  but  let  me  go  with 
you,  Herbert ;  I  beg  of  you." 

She  laid  her  hand  entreatingly  upon  his  arm,  and 
her  eyes  were  directed  with  almost  an  expression  of 
fear  upon  her  husband's  face,  whose  thin  lips  parted 
in  a  sarcastic  smile.  It  was  that  superior  smile, 
which  could  be  so  insulting  at  times. 


194  THE    SIGX    OF    FLAME. 

"Ah,  so?  Now  I  understand.  That  scene  with 
the  Princess  has  been  disagreeable  to  you.  You 
fear  renewed  annoyances,  which  will  probably  not 
fail  to  come.  You  must  lose  this  sensitiveness,  my 
child.  On  the  contrary,  you  ought  to  be  aware  of 
the  fact  that  this  encounter  alone  puts  you  to  the 
necessity  of  remaining  here.  Every  word,  every 
look  is  interpreted  at  Court,  and  a  sudden  departure 
on  your  part  would  give  rise  to  all  sorts  of  specula- 
tions. You  have  to  hold  your  own  now,  if  you  do 
not  wish  to  make  your  connections  with  the  Court 
forever  difficult." 

The  young  wife's  hand  slipped  slowly  from  his 
arm,  and  her  look  sank  to  the  floor  at  this  cool  re- 
joinder to  her  almost  beseeching  entreaty — the  first 
she  had  uttered  in  her  short  marriage. 

"Hold  my  own,"  she  repeated,  in  a  low  voice.  "I 
do  that,  but  I  hoped  you  would  remain  at  my 
side." 

"That  is  not  possible  just  now,  as  you  see;  be- 
sides, you  understand  in  a  masterly  manner  how  to 
defend  yourself.  You  have  shown  that  to  me  as 
well  as  to  the  whole  Court  to-day,  but  I  am  sure  the 
hint  I  gave  you  will  be  considered,  and  that  you 
will  be  more  cautious  with  your  answers  in  the 
future.  At  any  rate,  you  will  remain  at  Fursten- 
stein  until  I  return  for  you." 

Adelaide  was  silent.  She  saw  that  nothing  was 
to  be  gained  here. 

Wallmoden  stepped  back  to  the  writing  table  and 
looked  at  the  document  just  received;  then  he 
grasped  the  sheet  on  which  he  had  written  the 
answer  and  folded  it. 

"One  thing  more,  Adelaide,"  he  said,  carelessly; 
"the  young  Prince  Adelsberg  was  constantly  at 


THE   SIGN   OF   FLAME.  195 

your  side  to-night.  He  pays  homage  to  you  in 
rather  a  conspicuous  manner." 

"Do  you  wish  me  to  decline  these  attentions?" 
she  asked,  indifferently. 

"No;  I  only  ask  you  to  draw  the  necessary  limit, 
so  that  no  idle  talk  may  ensue.  I  do  not  intend  to 
cut  short  your  social  victories.  We  do  not  live  in 
burgher  circumstances,  and  it  would  be  ridiculous  in 
my  position  to  play  the  jealous  husband  who  views 
every  attention  paid  his  wife  with  suspicion.  I 
leave  this  entirely  to  your  own  tact,  in  which  I  have 
unlimited  confidence." 

All  of  this  sounded  so  tranquil,  so  sensible,  so 
boundlessly  indifferent,  Herr  von  Wallmoden 
might,  indeed,  be  exonerated  from  any  thought  of 
jealousy.  The  openly  offered  admiration  of  the 
young,  charming  Prince  caused  him  no  anxiety;  he 
quietly  left  his  wife  to  her  "tact." 

"I  shall  attend  to  this  dispatch  myself,"  he  con- 
tinued ;  "as  we  have  a  telegraph  station  in  the  castle 
since  the  Duke's  arrival.  You  should  ring  for  your 
mail,  my  child;  you  look  somewhat  fatigued  and 
probably  feel  so.  Good  night." 

He  left  the  room,  but  Adelaide  did  not  follow  the 
advice.  She  had  drawn  near  the  window  again, 
and  a  half  bitter,  half  pained  expression  trembled 
on  her  lips.  She  had  never  felt  so  painfully  as  at 
this  moment  that  she  was  nothing  more  to  her  hus- 
band than  a  shining  jewel  which  one  exhibits,  a  wife 
whom  one  treats  with  perfect  politeness  and  atten- 
tion because  she  brought  in  her  hand  a  princely  for- 
tune, and  to  whom  a  request  could  be  denied  with 
equal  politeness;  a  request  which  might  have  been 
so  easily  granted. 

Night  rested  over  the  forest;  the  sky  was  cloudy 


196  THE    SIGN    OF   FLAME. 

and  dark,  with  here  and  there  a  solitary  star  glim- 
mering through  the  flying  clouds.  A  pale  face 
looked  up  to  the  gloomy  sky;  not  with  the  cold, 
proud  composure  the  world  was  accustomed  to  see, 
but  with  an  expression  of  beseeching  entreaty. 

The  young  wife  pressed  both  hands  to  her  bosom, 
as  if  the  pain  and  unrest  were  there.  She  had 
wished  to  flee  from  the  dark  power  whose  approach 
she  had  felt,  and  which  was  drawing  the  circles 
nearer  and  closer  around  her.  She  had  wished  to 
flee  to  her  husband's  protection.  In  vain!  He 
would  go  away  and  leave  her  alone,  and  another  re- 
mained— another,  who,  with  dark,  glowing  eyes  and 
thrilling  voice,  wielded  such  a  mysterious,  irresist- 
ible power.  "Ada,"  the  name  with  its  sweet,  for- 
eign sound,  floated  near  her  like  a  spirit's  breath. 
It  was  her  name  which  the  legend  of  the  Arivana 
bore! 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 

OCTOBER  had  come,  and  autumn  began  to  show 
its  reign  in  a  marked  manner.  The  foliage  of  the 
trees  bore  gay  tints;  the  country  was  wrapped, 
morning  and  night,  in  mist.  The  nights  sometimes 
brought  frost,  while  the  days  were  unusually  fine 
and  sunny. 

With  the  exception  of  that  large  fete  which  had 
collected  the  whole  community,  and  the  hunts, 
which  were  naturally  prominent  at  this  time  of  the 
year,  no  particular  festivities  took  place. 

The  Duke,  as  well  as  his  wife,  loved  to  entertain 
small  circles,  and  did  not  wish  to  disturb  the  quiet 
and  freedom  of  their  autumn  visit  with  brilliant 
entertainments.  On  that  account  excursions  were 
more  often  taken.  The  forest  hills  were  being  ex- 
plored on  horseback  and  in  carriages,  and  the  ducal 
table  daily  held  a  large  number  of  guests.  Adelaide 
von  Wallmoden  belonged  to  this  small  circle.  The 
Duchess,  who  had  learned  in  what  manner  her  sis- 
ter-in-law tried  to  make  the  position  of  the  young 
Baroness  more  difficult,  counterbalanced  it  with 
greater  affability,  drawing  Adelaide  into  her  pres- 
ence at  every  opportunity;  and  the  Duke,  who 
wished  to  distinguish  the  Ambassador  and  his  wife, 
was  well  satisfied  with  it. 

Wallmoden  was  still  in  Berlin.  The  two  weeks 
he  had  appointed  for  his  trip  had  passed  away,  and 
yet  nothing  was  said  of  his  return. 

197 


198  THE   SIGK   OF   FLAME. 

One  of  the  most  frequent  visitors  at  Furstenstein 
was  Egon  von  Adelsberg,  the  pronounced  favorite 
of  his  princely  relatives;  and  his  friend,  Rojanow, 
was  always  honored  with  an  invitation.  The 
young  Prince  had  prophesied  correctly.  Hartmut 
was  like  a  shining  meteor,  whom  all  eyes  followed 
with  admiration,  and  of  whom  it  was  not  expected 
that  he  should  follow  in  the  old  beaten  track  of 
Court  life. 

He  had  read  his  Arivana  to  them  at  the  request  of 
the  Duchess,  and  with  it  had  gained  a  perfect  tri- 
umph. The  Duke  had  immediately  promised  him  a 
performance  of  the  drama  in  the  Court  Theatre,  and 
Princess  Sophie  turned  her  special  favor  upon  the 
young  poet. 

The  surrounding  Court  circle,  of  course,  followed 
the  example  of  the  princely  people  in  this  case  only 
too  gladly,  for  the  charm  he  exercised  was  uni- 
versal. 

The  hunting  carriage  of  Prince  Adelsberg  stood 
before  the  castle  of  Rodeck.  It  was  still  early,  and 
the  misty  October  morning  seemed  to  promise  a 
clear,  beautiful  day.  Egon  had  just  appeared  upon 
the  terrace  in  full  hunting  costume  and  was  speak- 
ing with  the  castle  steward,  who  followed  him. 

"And  so  you  wish  to  look  at  the  hunt  also?"  he 
asked.  "Of  course,  Peter  Stadinger  has  to  be 
wherever  anything  is  to  be  seen.  My  valet  has  also 
asked  leave  of  absence,  and  I  believe  the  whole 
population  of  the  Wald  will  turn  out  to-day  to  be 
at  the  hunting  grounds." 

"Yes,  Your  Highness,  such  things  are  not  often 
to  be  seen,"  said  Stadinger.  "The  great  Court  and 
gala  hunts  have  become  rare  in  our  Wald.  Hunt- 
ing goes  on  everywhere,  but  then  the  gentlemen  are 


THE   SIGN   OF   FLAME.  199 

mostly  by  themselves,  like  here  at  Rodeck,  and  if  the 
ladies  are  not  there " 

"Then  it  is  unbearably  tiresome,"  completed  the 
Prince.  "Quite  my  opinion ;  but  you  are  otherwise 
prejudiced  against  womankind,  and  cry  out  if  any 
one  who  has  not  reached  a  good  old  age  comes  with- 
in the  borders  of  Rodeck.  Have  you  changed  your 
opinion  in  your  old  days  ?" 

"I  meant  the  high  princely  ladies,  Your  High- 
ness," declared  the  old  servant,  with  particular  em- 
phasis. 

"The  high  princely  ladies  could  only  honor  me 
with  a  visit  upon  the  occasion  of  a  drive.  I  cannot 
invite  them,  as  I  am  a  bachelor." 

"And  why  is  Your  Highness  still  a  bachelor?" 
asked  Stadinger  in  reproachful  tones. 

"Man,  I  believe  you  also  have  matrimonial  plans 
for  me  as  well  as  the  world  has,"  laughed  Egon. 
"Spare  your  pains;  I  shall  not  marry." 

"That  is  not  right,  Your  Highness,"  persisted 
Stadinger,  who  gave  his  master  his  title  at  least 
once  in  every  sentence  because  it  was  "respectable" 
so  to  do,  while  at  the  same  time  he  took  the  liberty 
of  lecturing  him  upon  every  occasion ;  "and  it  is  also 
unchristian! ike,  for  matrimony  is  a  holy  state,  in 
which  one  feels  well  off.  Your  sainted  father  was 
married — and  so  was  I." 

"Oh,  of  course,  you  too.  You  are  even  grand- 
father of  a  most  charming  granddaughter,  whom 
you  have  most  cruelly  sent  off.  When  does  she 
come  back,  anyhow?" 

The  steward  thought  best  to  lose  the  last 
question,  but  he  remained  obstinately  at  his  sub- 
ject. 

"Your  Highness,  the  Duchess  and  the  Princess 


200  THE    SIGN   OF   FLAME. 

Sophie  are  of  the  same  opinion.  Your  Highness 
should  consider  the  subject  seriously." 

"Well,  since  you  exhort  so  paternally,  I  will  con- 
sider it.  But,  concerning  the  Princess  Sophie,  she 
intends  to  drive  to  Bucheneck,  which  is  the  meet- 
ing place  of  to-day's  hunt;  it  may  be  possible  she 
will  notice  you  there  and  may  speak  to  you." 

"Very  probable,  Your  Highness,"  confirmed  the 
old  man,  complacently.  "Her  Highness  always 
honors  me  by  speaking  to  me,  because  she  knows  me 
as  the  oldest  servant  of  the  ducal  house." 

"Very  well.  If  the  Princess  should  ask  casually 
after  the  snakes  and  animals  which  I  have  brought 
back  from  my  travels,  you  say  that  they  have  al- 
ready been  sent  to  one  of  my  other  castles." 

"It  is  not  necessary  at  all,  Your  Highness,"  Stad- 
inger  assured  him,  benevolently;  "the  most  illustri- 
ous aunt  already  knows  all  about  it." 

"Knows  all  about  what?  Have  you  told  her 
anything?" 

"At  your  service.  The  day  before  yesterday, 
when  I  was  at  Furstenstein,  Her  Highness  had  just 
returned  from  a  drive  and  graciously  beckoned  me 
to  approach  and  asked  me — Her  Highness  likes  to 
do  that " 

"Yes,  Heaven  knows!"  groaned  the  young 
Prince,  who  already  scented  mischief.  "And  what 
did  you  answer?" 

"  'Your  Highness  may  rest  easy,'  I  said ;  'we  have 
only  monkeys  and  parrots  of  the  live  animals  in  the 
castle.  Serpents  have  never  been  there.  A  large 
sea  serpent,  though,  was  to  have  arrived,  but  he  died 
on  the  voyage,  and  the  elephants  tore  themselves 
lose  at  the  embarking  and  ran  back  to  the  palm  for- 
ests— at  least,  so  His  Highness  says.  To  be  sure, 


THE    SIGN    OF   FLAME.  20i 

we  have  two  tigers,  but  they  are  stuffed ;  and  of  the 
lions,  there  is  only  the  skin,  which  lies  in  the  ar- 
mory. Therefore  Your  Highness  may  see  that  the 
beasts  cannot  break  loose  and  do  harm.' ' 

"Oh,  but  you  have  fixed  things  now  with  your 
chattering!"  cried  Egon,  exasperated.  "And  the 
Princess,  what  did  she  say?" 

"Her  Highness  only  smiled  and  inquired  what 
kind  of  female  servants  we  had  at  Rodeck,  and  if 
the  girls  of  this  vicinity  were  among  them;  but  I 
said  then — here  Stadinger  drew  himself  up  con- 
sciously— "  'The  servants  in  service  at  the  castle  I 
have  hired.  They  are  all  industrious  and  reliable ;  I 
have  looked  out  for  that.  But  His  Highness  runs 
when  he  puts  eyes  on  them,  and  Herr  Rojanow  runs 
still  more;  and  the  gentlemen  have  never  gone  back 
into  the  kitchen  since  the  first  time  they  went 
there.'  After  that  Her  Highness  was  most  gra- 
cious and  condescended  to  praise  me  and  dismissed 
me  in  the  very  highest  satisfaction." 

"And  I  should  like  to  run  you  to  perdition  in  the 
very  highest  dissatisfaction,"  the  Prince  burst  forth, 
wrathfully.  "You  unlucky  old  Waldgeist,  what 
have  you  been  doing  again  ?" 

The  old  man,  who  apparently  thought  that  he  had 
done  his  part  extremely  well,  looked  at  his  master  in 
perplexity. 

"But  I  have  only  said  the  truth,  Your  Highness." 

"There  are  cases  where  one  must  not  say  the 
truth." 

"So  ?     I  did  not  know  that  till  now." 

"Stadinger,  you  have  quite  an  abominable  way  of 
answering.  Have  you  told  the  Princess  also  that 
Lena  has  been  in  town  for  the  past  four  weeks  ?" 

"At  your  service,  Your  Highness." 


203  THE    SIGtf   OP   FLAME. 

"What  is  the  matter  with  Stadinger  again?"  in^ 
quired  Hartmut,  who  emerged  from  the  castle,  also 
dressed  for  the  hunt,  and  who  had  heard  the  last  of 
the  conversation. 

"He  has  committed  a  first-class  foolishness/' 
grumbled  Egon,  but  he  was  met  with  bad  success  by 
the  "oldest  servant  of  the  ducal  house,"  who  drew 
himself  up,  deeply  offended. 

"With  your  permission,  Your  Highness,  I  have 
not  committed  the  foolishness." 

"Do  you  mean  perhaps  that  I  have  done  it?" 

Stadinger  looked  at  his  master  keenly  from  the 
corner  of  his  eye,  after  which  he  said  deliberately: 
"That  I  do  not  know,  Your  Highness;  but  it  may 
be  so." 

"You  are  a  churl !"  cried  the  Prince,  hotly. 

"Known  for  that  through  all  the  Wald,  Your 
Highness." 

"Come,  Hartmut;  nothing  can  be  done  with  the 
old,  grumbling  bear  to-day,"  said  Egon,  half  laugh- 
ing, half  vexed.  "At  first  he  gets  me  into  scrapes, 
and  then  he  lectures  me  on  top  of  it.  May  gra- 
ciousness  help  you,  Stadinger,  if  you  give  any  more 
such  reports !" 

With  which  he  entered  the  carriage  with  Roja- 
now.  Stadinger  remained  standing  in  military  po- 
sition and  saluted  as  was  demanded  by  his  idea  of 
the  respectful,  for  respect  was  the  main  thing,  al- 
though he  did  not  in  the  least  think  of  giving  in  by 
so  doing.  His  Highness,  Prince  Egon,  had  to  do 
that;  he  could  not  come  up  with  his  Peter  Stad- 
inger. 


CHAPTER  XXVII. 

EGON  was  evidently  of  the  same  opinion  as  he 
narrated  the  proceeding  to  his  friend,  and  concluded 
with  comic  despair :  "Now  you  can  imagine  what  a 
reception  will  be  mine  from  the  most  illustrious 
aunt.  She  has  guessed  that  I  wished  to  keep  her 
away  from  Rodeck.  My  morals  are  rescued  in  her 
eyes,  but  at  the  expense  of  my  veracity.  Hartmut, 
do  me  the  favor  of  showering  your  sweetest  affabil- 
ity upon  my  revered  aunt.  If  necessary,  compose 
a  poem  for  her  as  a  lightning  rod;  otherwise  the 
flash  of  her  most  high  anger  will  annihilate  me." 

"Well,  I  should  think  you  were  weather-proof  in 
this  respect,"  quoth  Hartmut.  "You  have  had  to 
have  forgiveness  for  many  similar  escapades.  The 
Duchess  and  the  younger  ladies  will  be  at  the  chase 
on  horseback,  will  they  not?" 

"Yes,  they  could  not  see  much  from  a  carriage. 
Do  you  know  that  Frau  von  Wallmoden  sits  her 
horse  perfectly.  I  met  her  the  day  before  yester- 
day as  she  returned  from  a  ride  with  her  brother-in- 
law,  the  Chief  Forester." 

"Ah,  so?  Well,  one  knows,  then,  where  Prince 
Adelsberg  will  be  to-day  exclusively." 

Egon,  who  had  been  reclining  comfortably, 
straightened  himself  and  looked  at  his  friend  in- 
quiringly. 

"Not  so  much  sarcasm,  if  you  please.  Although 
you  are  not  to  be  found  so  frequently  in  the  presence 
of  the  afore-mentioned  lady,  and  even  pretend  a  cer- 

203 


204  THE    SIGN   OF   FLAME. 

tain  coldness  toward  her,  I  know  you  too  well  not 
to  see  that  we  are  only  too  much  of  the  same 
opinion." 

"And  if  it  were  so,  would  you  consider  it  a  break 
in  our  friendship?" 

"Not  in  this  case,  where  the  object  is  unobtain- 
able to  both." 

"Unobtainable!"  That  unpleasant  smile  again 
passed  over  his  lips. 

"Yes,  Hartmut,"  said  the  Prince,  seriously,  "the 
beautiful,  cold  Aurora,  as  you  have  christened  her, 
remains  true  to  her  nature.  She  stands  far  re- 
moved and  unapproachable  on  the  horizon,  and  the 
ice  sea  from  which  she  rises  is  not  to  be  penetrated. 
The  lady  has  no  heart;  she  is  incapable  of  a  passion- 
ate feeling,  and  this  gives  her  this  enviable  security. 
Come,  confess  that  here  your  power  is  wrecked. 
The  icy  breath  has  chilled  you,  and  therefore  you 
flee  from  it." 

Hartmut  was  silent.  He  thought  of  those  mo- 
ments in  the  tower  room,  when  he  asked  for  the  bril- 
liant flower.  It  had  been  refused  him,  but  it  had 
not  been  an  icy  breath  which  came  from  the  Baron- 
ess when  she  had  trembled  under  the  gaze  of  the 
beseecher. 

He  had  since  seen  her  almost  daily,  but  had  rarely 
approached  her,  although  he  knew  that  he  held  her 
under  his  spell  now  as  before. 

"Nevertheless,  I  cannot  get  free  from  this  foolish 
infatuation,"  continued  Egon,  with  a  half  dreamy 
expression.  "It  seems  to  me  that  life  and  warmth 
could  grow  up  in  that  nature,  and  change  the  snow 
region  into  a  blooming  world.  If  Adelaide  von 
Wallmoden  were  still  free,  I  believe  I  should  make 
the  attempt." 


THE    SIGN    OF   FLAME.  205 

Rojanow,  who  had  been  gazing  into  the  misty 
forest,  lost  in  thought,  turned  quickly  and  sharply: 

"What  attempt?  Does  that  perhaps  mean  that 
you  would  offer  her  your  hand  ?" 

"You  seem  really  horror-stricken  at  the  idea." 
The  Prince  laughed  aloud.  "I  meant  that,  indeed. 
I  have  no  prejudice  against  the  manufacturing 
world,  like  my  most  gracious  aunt,  whom  such  a 
possibility  would  indeed  throw  into  convulsions. 
Strange  to  say,  you  seem  to  think  so,  too.  Well, 
both  of  you  may  rest  easy.  His  Excellency,  the 
husband,  has  seized  the  prize ;  but  he  truly  does  not 
make  a  life  of  roses  for  her  with  his  tiresome  diplo- 
matic face.  Ah !  but  the  man  has  had  enviable  good 
luck." 

"Call  no  man  happy  before  his  death,"  muttered 
Hartmut  under  his  breath. 

"A  very  wise  remark,  and  one  not  quite  new  to 
me.  But  you  sometimes  have  something  in  your 
eyes  which  frightens  me.  Do  not  be  offended, 
Hartmut;  but  you  look  like  a  demon  at  this 
moment." 

Rojanow  made  no  answer. 

The  road  now  left  the  forest,  and  yonder  Fur- 
stenstein  rose  into  view,  where  the  ducal  colors 
floated  in  the  morning  breeze.  Half  an  hour  later 
the  carriage  rolled  into  the  castle  court,  where  an 
animated  scene  reigned. 

The  entire  force  of  servants  was  at  hand ;  saddle 
horses  and  carriages  were  ready,  and  the  greater 
number  of  invited  guests  had  already  arrived. 

The  start  took  place  at  the  appointed  hour,  and 
the  bright  light  of  the  sun,  breaking  through  the 
mist,  shone  resplendent  on  the  imposing  cavalcade 
as  it  moved  down  the  Schlossberg. 


206  THE    SIGN   OF    FLAME. 

The  Duke  and  Duchess  led  the  party;  then  fol- 
lowed the  numerous  suite  and  the  whole  assembly 
of  guests,  and  the  grooms  in  full  livery  who  were 
permitted  to  go. 

Out  through  the  sunny  autumn  morning  into  the 
forests  and  heights  of  the  hunting  preserves,  where 
it  soon  became  lively.  Firing  resounded  on  all 
sides ;  the  flying  game  broke  through  the  thickets  or 
sped  across  the  openings,  now  alone  and  now  in 
droves,  only  to  be  reached  finally  by  a  ball ;  and  the 
usually  quiet  forest  gave  back  the  echo  of  the  chase. 

The  Chief  Forester  had  ordered  out  the  entire 
forester  staff  of  the  Wald,  and  had  made  all  ar- 
rangements so  excellently  that  it  brought  him  great 
honor  to  lead  the  chase,  which  was  not  marred  by 
any  accident. 

Toward  noon  a  rendezvous  was  held  at  Buche- 
neck,  a  small  ducal  forest  lodge  situated  in  the 
midst  of  the  Wald,  and  which  could  afford  shelter 
in  case  of  unfavorable  weather.  This  was  not  nec- 
essary to-day,  for  the  weather  had  turned  out  to  be 
fine,  only  a  little  too  warm  for  an  October  day. 
The  sun  burned  so  hotly  as  to  render  it  unpleasant 
at  luncheon,  which  was  partaken  of  out  of  doors; 
but  otherwise  all  passed  off  happily  and  uncere- 
moniously, and  a  gay  scene  developed  upon  the  large 
green  meadow,  at  the  border  of  which  Bucheneck 
was  situated. 

The  entire  hunting  cortege  was  assembled  here. 
The  Duke,  who  had  been  especially  fortunate  in  the 
chase  to-day,  was  in  the  very  best  of  spirits.  The 
Duchess  chatted  with  animation  to  her  surrounding 
ladies,  and  the  Chief  Forester  beamed  with  pleasure, 
for  the  Duke  had  expressed  his  satisfaction  in  the 
most  flattering  manner. 


THE    SIGN   OF   FLAME.  20? 

Frau  von  Wallmoden,  who  was  near  the  Duchess, 
was  the  subject  of  general  admiration  to-day.  She 
was,  without  doubt,  the  most  beautiful  of  all  the  as- 
sembled ladies,  nearly  all  of  whom  needed  rich 
dressing  and  candle-light  to  bring  out  their  beauty. 
Here,  in  the  bright,  midday  sun,  in  plain,  dark  rid- 
ing habits,  which  permitted  no  colors  or  jewels, 
many  an  otherwise  admired  appearance  faded.  The 
young  Baroness  alone  remained  victorious  in  this 
simplicity.  Her  tall,  slender  figure  looked  as  if 
formed  for  her  habit,  while  the  transparent  clear- 
ness and  freshness  of  her  skin,  and  the  shining 
blondness  of  her  hair  were  even  more  to  be  admired 
in  daylight  than  at  the  night  fete.  Besides,  she  had 
really  proved  herself  an  able  horsewoman,  who  sat 
in  the  saddle  with  as  much  ease  as  security;  in  short, 
the  "beautiful  Aurora,"  as  Frau  von  Wallmoden 
was  now  called  in  the  court  circle  since  Prince 
Adelsberg  had  given  her  that  name,  was  admired 
on  all  sides,  and  received  the  more  attention  as  it 
was  known  that  she  was  to  disappear  for  several 
weeks. 

The  Ambassador  had  notified  his  wife  yesterday 
that  his  diplomatic  work  was  now  finished,  but  that 
he  would  utilize  his  presence  in  North  Germany  in 
looking  after  the  Stahlberg  works. 

Important  changes  had  been  planned  there,  and 
new  improvements  spoken  of,  for  which  a  final  de- 
cision had  to  be  made,  and  Wallmoden,  as  executor 
and  guardian  of  the  heir,  had  the  deciding  voice  in 
it.  His  presence  at  the  conference  was  indispen- 
sable ;  he  had  asked  leave  of  absence  from  his  office, 
and  had  notified  the  Duke  of  a  return  later. 

At  the  same  time  he  left  it  to  his  wife  to  decide 
whether  she  would  remain  at  Furstenstein  or  take 


208  THE    SIGN   OF   FLAME. 

the  trip  to  her  old  home  with  him,  if  she  wished  to 
see  her  brother.  Now,  after  fully  two  weeks,  no 
one  could  misconstrue  her  departure.  The  young 
wife  had  immediately  chosen  to  go  with  her  hus- 
band, and  had  notified  the  Duchess  that  she  should 
leave  on  the  morrow. 


CHAPTER  XXVIII. 

PRINCESS  SOPHIE  had  arrived  at  Bucheneck  with 
her  lady  of  honor  and  the  elder  ladies  in  carriages, 
and  now  attempted,  above  everything,  to  lay  hands 
on  her  illustrious  nephew;  but  he  developed  an  in- 
credible aptness  at  keeping  out  of  her  reach.  He 
was  everywhere  except  in  the  near  presence  of  his 
most  gracious  aunt,  until  finally  she  lost  patience 
and  ordered  a  gentleman  to  call  Prince  Adelsberg 
into  her  presence. 

Egon  had  to  obey  this  command,  but  he  used  the 
precaution  of  taking  the  "lightning  rod"  with  him. 
Rojanow  was  at  his  side  when  he  stood  before  the 
Princess. 

"Well,  Egon,  do  I  really  get  a  glimpse  of  you?" 
was  the  not  very  gracious  reception.  "You  seem  to 
have  been  taken  possession  of  on  all  sides  to-day." 

"I  am  always  ready  for  the  service  of  my  most 
gracious  aunt,"  declared  Egon  in  honeyed  accents; 
but  the  sweetness  did  him  no  good.  The  Princess 
measured  him  with  an  annihilating  glance. 

"As  far  as  your  knightly  service  to  Frau  von 
Wallmoden  leaves  you  time.  She  will  give  this 
chivalry  a  glowing  mention  to  her  husband.  You 
may  know  him,  perhaps?" 

"Certainly.  I  revere  him  highly  as  a  man,  as  a 
diplomat  and  as  His  Excellency.  Your  Highness 
may  believe  that." 

"I    believe   you    unconditionally,    Egon.      Your 

209 


210  THE   SIGN   OF   FLAME. 

love  for  veracity  is  far  above  any  doubts  with  me," 
said  the  lady,  with  stinging  sarcasm.  "I  just  hap- 
pen to  remember  speaking  the  day  before  yesterday 
with  the  steward  of  Rodeck — the  old  Stadinger — 
who  is  still  very  active  for  his  years." 

"But  he  suffers  seriously  from  failing  memory," 
the  Prince  hastened  to  assure  her.  "I  am  sorry  to 
say  that  Stadinger  forgets  everything.  Is  it  not 
so,  Hartmut?  He  positively  does  not  know  to-day 
what  he  saw  yesterday." 

"On  the  contrary,  I  found  that  his  memory  was 
exceptionally  fresh.  Besides,  he  is  the  oldest  and 
truest  servant  of  your  house,  reliable — careful " 

"And  a  churl,"  interrupted  Egon,  sighing. 
"Your  Highness,  you  have  no  idea  of  the  unlimited 
gruffness  which  dwells  in  this  Peter  Stadinger.  He 
tyrannizes  over  Herr  Rojanow  and  me  shamefully. 
I  have  actually  thought  of  retiring  him." 

Of  course,  he  did  not  dream  of  that.  His  High- 
ness knew  better  than  to  make  Peter  Stadinger  such 
a  proposition,  and  would  have  fared  badly  if  he  had. 
But  Princess  Sophie,  who  had  the  reputation  of 
being  very  haughty  and  relentless  toward  her  ser- 
vants, now  favored  a  very  mild  course. 

"You  should  not  do  that,"  she  remonstrated.  "A 
man  who  is  now  serving  the  third  generation  of  the 
ducal  family  may  be  pardoned  such  a  thing,  particu- 
larly considering  the  somewhat  loose  housekeeping 
which  the  young  gentlemen  lead  at  Rodeck.  It 
seems  that  they  do  not  like  to  see  visitors  there,  pre- 
ferring the  solitude." 

"Ah,  yes,  the  solitude!"  sighed  Egon,  sentimen- 
tally. "It  does  one  so  much  good  after  the  stormy 
life  of  travel,  and  we  enjoy  it  in  full  draughts.  I 
occupy  myself  mostly " 


THE   SIGtf   OF   FLAME.  2il 

"With  the  taming  of  your  wild  animals,"  fin- 
ished the  Princess  maliciously. 

"No,  with — with  my  travelling  memoirs,  which 
I  intend  to  publish;  and  Hartmut  composes  melan- 
choly songs.  He  has  just  now  the  material  for  a 
ballad  under  his  pen,  to  which  Your  Highness  drew 
his  attention." 

"Why,  Herr  Rojanow,  have  you  really  utilized 
the  theme?"  asked  the  lady,  whose  face  now  sud- 
denly beamed  with  sunshine,  as  she  turned  to  the 
young  poet. 

"Certainly,  Your  Highness.  I  am  very  grateful 
to  you  for  the  suggestion,"  said  Hartmut,  who  had 
not  the  slightest  idea  what  the  subject  was,  but  felt 
that  he  had  to  go  into  action  now. 

"I  am  glad  of  that.  I  love  poetry  and  seek  it  at 
every  opportunity." 

"And  with  what  understanding  and  apprecia- 
tion !"  cried  Egon,  enthusiastically.  But  he  quickly 
embraced  the  opportunity  of  slipping  away,  leaving 
his  friend  behind  as  the  victim.  He  hastened  to  the 
presence  of  the  Duchess,  which  meant  the  presence 
of  Frau  von  Wallmoden,  where  he  seemed  to  feel 
decidedly  better  than  with  his  most  gracious  aunt. 

The  chase  was  resumed  after  luncheon  was  over. 
It  was  now  a  hunt  for  large  game,  which  was  com- 
menced with  renewed  zeal. 

But  the  hitherto  sunny  weather  changed  in  the 
afternoon.  The  sky  grew  cloudy  and  dark,  but  it 
remained  warm,  almost  stifling,  and  a  heavy  bank 
of  cloud  arose  in  the  west.  It  looked  as  if  one  of 
those  late  thunderstorms  was  preparing,  which 
passed  at  times  over  the  Wald  at  this  season. 

The  Duchess,  with  a  portion  of  her  attendants, 
had  taken  her  stand  upon  a  hill  which  seemed  to 


212  THE    SIGN   OF   FLAME. 

afford  the  best  view,  but  soon  the  chase  took  an- 
other quite  unexpected  direction,  and  the  onlookers 
made  ready  to  follow. 

Frau  von  Wallmoden  met  here  with  a  slight  acci- 
dent. The  girth  of  her  saddle  suddenly  broke  and 
she  sprang  lightly  from  the  stirrup,  thus  saving  her- 
self from  a  fall.  It  was  not  possible  to  continue  her 
ride,  for  although  the  accompanying  groom  could 
have  given  her  a  horse,  there  was  no  lady's  saddle  at 
hand;  consequently  she  had  to  give  up  further  par- 
ticipation, and  decided  to  walk  back  to  Bucheneck, 
to  where  one  of  the  grooms  would  lead  her  horse. 

Adelaide  had  requested  the  servant  to  precede 
her,  and  she  lingered  on  the  hill  which  had  become 
quiet  and  lonely.  It  almost  seemed  that  the  acci- 
dent had  been  welcome  to  her,  since  it  relieved  her 
from  attending  the  chase  to  the  end. 

It  is  always  a  relief  when  one  can  drop  a  mask 
which  has  deceived  the  world  and  can  breathe  in 
solitude,  if  it  only  brings  conviction  of  the  heavy 
load  one  had  to  bear  under  that  mask. 

Where  had  the  cold,  proud  calm  vanished  with 
which  the  young  wife  had  entered  her  new  home 
upon  the  arm  of  her  husband?  Now,  when  she 
knew  herself  alone  and  unobserved,  it  could  be 
plainly  seen  that  she  had  changed  much. 

That  strong  will-line  which  had  made  her  re- 
semble her  father  so  much  had  become  more  pro- 
nounced, but  besides  that  there  was  another  line — 
a  painful  one — as  of  a  person  who  has  to  struggle 
with  secret  torture  and  anxiety.  The  blue  eyes  had 
lost  the  cold,  dispassionate  expression.  A  deep 
shadow  rested  within  them  which  also  told  of 
struggle  and  pain,  and  the  blonde  head  drooped  as  if 
under  an  invisible  but  heavy  load. 


THE   SIGN   OF   FLAME. 

And  yet  Adelaide  drew  a  breath  of  relief  at  the 
thought  that  this  would  be  the  last  day  she  should 
spend  at  Furstenstein.  By  to-morrow  she  would 
be  far  from  here.  Perhaps  there  would  be  rest  in 
the  far  removal  of  the  dark  power  against  which 
she  had  struggled  now  for  weeks  so  painfully,  and 
yet  so  vainly. 

Perhaps  she  would  get  better  if  she  did  not  see 
those  eyes  day  after  day,  nor  hear  that  voice. 

When  she  should  have  fled  from  the  enchanted 
circle  the  charm  would  have  to  break,  and  now  at 
last  she  could  flee — oh,  the  happiness  of  it! 

The  noise  of  the  chase  sounded  in  ever-increasing 
distance,  and  was  finally  lost,  but  steps  now  sounded 
in  the  forest  which  encircled  the  hill  closely,  and 
warned  the  young  Baroness  that  she  was  no  longer 
alone.  She  started  to  leave,  but  at  the  moment  she 
turned  the  one  approaching  emerged  from  under  the 
trees. 

Hartmut  Rojanow  stood  before  her. 

The  meeting  was  so  sudden  and  unexpected  that 
Adelaide's  composure  was  not  proof  against  it. 
She  retreated  to  the  trunk  of  the  tree,  under  the 
boughs  of  which  she  had  been  standing,  as  if  seek- 
ing there  a  protection  from  this  man,  upon  whom 
she  gazed  with  fixed,  fearful  eyes — with  the  gaze 
of  a  wounded  animal  which  sees  the  huntsman  ap- 
proach. 

Rojanow  did  not  seem  to  notice  it.  He  saluted 
her  and  asked  hastily:  "You  are  alone,  Your  Ex- 
cellency ?  The  accident  did  not '  have  any  serious 
consequences  ?" 

"What  accident?" 

"It  was  said  you  had  a  fall  from  your  horse." 

"What  exaggeration!     The  girth  broke,  but  I 


214  THE   SIGN   OF   tfLAME. 

knew  it  in  time  to  spring  from  the  stirrup,  while 
the  horse  stood  perfectly  still — that  was  the  acci- 
dent." 

"God  be  praised!  I  heard  something  of  a  fall — 
an  injury — and  as  you  did  not  reappear  at  the  chase 
I  feared " 

He  paused,  for  Adelaide's  glance  showed  him 
plainly  that  she  did  not  believe  this  pretense;  prob- 
ably he  knew  the  whole  occurrence  and  had  learned 
why  and  where  Frau  von  Wallmoden  had  been  left 
behind.  She  now  regained  her  composure. 

"I  thank  you,  Herr  Rojanow,  but  your  being  at 
all  concerned  was  not  necessary,"  she  said  coldly. 
"You  could  have  told  yourself  that  had  there  been 
a  real  accident  the  Duchess  and  the  other  ladies 
would  not  have  left  me  helpless  in  the  forest.  I 
am  on  my  way  to  Bucheneck." 

She  attempted  to  pass  him.  He  bowed  and 
stepped  aside  as  if  to  let  her  pass,  but  said  in  a  low 
voice : 

"Gracious  lady,  I  have  yet  to  ask  your  pardon." 

"My  pardon!     For  what?" 

"For  a  request  which  I  uttered  thoughtlessly  and 
for  which  I  have  had  to  suffer  seriously.  I  only 
asked  for  a  flower.  Is  that,  then,  so  severe  a  trans- 
gression that  one  should  be  angry  over  it  for 
weeks  ?" 

Adelaide  had  paused  almost  without  knowing  it. 

Again  she  was  under  the  charm  of  these  eyes — 
this  voice,  which  held  her  fast  as  with  magnetism. 

"You  are  mistaken,  Herr  Rojanow.  I  am  not 
angry  with  you." 

"Not?  And  yet  it  is  this  icy  tone  I  have  always 
to  hear  since  I  dared  approach  you  in  that  hour. 
You  have  learned,  too,  to  know  my  work,  for  which 


ME    SIGtf    OF   FLAME.  215 

I  begged  a  recognition.  You  were  present  when  I 
read  it  at  Furstenstein.  My  Arivana  was  praised 
overwhelmingly  on  all  sides,  but  from  your  mouth 
alone  I  heard  no  word — not  one.  Will  you  refuse 
it  even  now?" 

"I  thought  we  were  hunting  to-day,"  said  Ade- 
laide with  an  attempt  to  pass  the  subject  by,  "where 
it  is  surely  not  admissible  to  speak  of  poetical 
works." 

"We  have  both  left  the  chase ;  it  is  running  now 
toward  the  Rodeck  forest.  There  is  only  forest 
solitude  here.  Look  at  this  autumn-tinted  foliage 
which  warns  so  mournfully  of  fleeting  existence — 
the  silent  water  down  there,  those  thunder  clouds 
in  the  distance.  I  believe  there  is  a  more  endless 
amount  of  poetry  in  all  this  than  in  the  halls  of 
Furstenstein." 

He  pointed  to  the  landscape  which  spread  out  be- 
fore them,  but  no  longer  in  the  bright  sunlight  that 
had  favored  the  chase  at  the  beginning.  Now  it  lay 
in  the  dim  light  of  an  overcast  sky,  which  made 
even  the  gay  foliage  appear  withered  and  dull. 

They  could  see  far  out  into  the  mountains,  which, 
retreating  on  both  sides,  left  the  distance  free.  The 
endless  ocean  of  forest  crowns  which  only  a  few 
weeks  ago  waved  green  and  airily  in  the  breeze,  now 
bore  the  color  of  the  fall.  They  shone  from  the 
darkest  brown  to  brilliant  golden  yellow  in  every 
shade  all  around,  and  shining  red  gleamed  from  the 
bushes  and  shrubs. 

The  dying  forest  adorned  itself  once  more  with 
deceptive  splendor,  but  it  was  only  the  coloring  of 
the  passing  away  and  dying.  All  life  and  bloom 
were  at  an  end. 

Deep  in  the  ravine  lay  a  little  forest  lake,  which, 


216  THE    SIGN   OF    FLAME. 

dark  and  motionless,  seemed  to  dream  in  the  wreath 
of  reeds  and  rushes  which  surrounded  it.  It  re- 
sembled strangely  another  pond  that,  far  away  in 
North  Germany,  lay  in  the  midst  of  a  pine  forest — 
the  Burgsdorf  pond — which,  like  this  one,  ended  in 
a  meadow  where  rich  green  beckoned,  nourished  by 
the  swamp  and  bog,  hiding  itself  deceitfully  beneath 
it,  and  drawing  the  ignorant  one  into  its  depth 
without  hope  of  rescue. 

Even  now  in  daylight  it  seemed  to  breathe  fog 
and  twilight,  and  when  night  should  descend  the 
will-o'-the-wisp  probably  commenced  here  also  its 
ghostly  play. 

At  the  horizon,  where  in  clear  weather  the  sum- 
mits of  the  mountains  were  visible,  towered  now  a 
dark  bank  of  clouds.  As  yet  in  the  distance,  its 
stifling  breath  rested  already  over  the  Wald,  and  at 
times  a  dull  light  flashed  from  it. 

Adelaide  had  not  answered  Hartmut's  question. 
She  gazed  out  over  the  country  to  avoid  looking 
into  the  face  of  the  man  who  stood  before  her,  but 
she  felt  the  dark,  passionate  look  which  rested  upon 
her  face,  as  she  had  always  felt  it  in  the  last  weeks, 
as  soon  as  Rojanow  was  in  her  presence. 

"You  are  going  away  to-morrow,  gracious  lady," 
he  commenced  agajn.  "Who  knows  when  you  will 
return  and  when  I  shall  see  you  again?  May  not 
I  beg  for  your  opinion  ?  May  I  not  ask  if  my  work 
has  found  grace  in  the  eyes  of — Ada?" 

Her  name  again  upon  his  lips;  again  that  soft, 
veiled,  yet  passionate,  tone  which  she  feared,  and 
yet  to  which  she  listened  as  to  enchanting  music ! 

Adelaide  felt  that  here  she  was  a  prisoner;  there 
was  no  chance  for  flight.  She  had  to  look  the 
danger  full  in  the  face. 


CHAPTER  XXIX. 

ADELAIDE  VON  WALLMODEN  turned  slowly  to- 
ward her  questioner,  and  her  features  betrayed  that 
she  was  determined  to  end  the  hard  struggle — the 
struggle  with  her  own  self. 

"You  play  strangely  with  this  name,  Herr  Ro- 
janow,"  she  said  emphatically  and  proudly.  "It 
stood  over  the  poem  which  was  put  into  my  posses- 
sion in  a  mysterious  manner  last  week,  written  in  a 
strange  hand,  without  signature " 

"And  which  you  read,  nevertheless/'  he  inter- 
rupted triumphantly. 

"Yes,  and  burned." 

"Burned!" 

From  Hartmut's  eyes  flashed  again  the  uncanny 
look  which  had  startled  even  Egon  and  made  him 
exclaim,  "You  look  like  a  demon!" 

The  demon  of  hate  and  revenge  had  risen  wildly 
against  the  man  who  had  insulted  him  unto  death 
and  whom  he  therefore  wished  to  hurt  unto  death, 
and  yet  he  loved  that  man's  wife  as  the  son  of  Zalika 
alone  could  love — with  wild,  consuming  passion; 
but  that  which  he  felt  at  this  moment  resembled 
hatred  more  than  love. 

"The  poor  leaf,"  he  said  with  ill-concealed  bitter- 
ness. "And  so  it  had  to  suffer  death  in  the  flames 
— perhaps  it  deserved  a  better  fate." 

"You  ought  not  to  have  sent  it  to  me,  then.  I 
dare  not  and  will  not  accept  such  poetry." 

217 


218  THE   SIGN   OF   FLAME. 

"You  dare  not,  gracious  lady  ?  It  is  the  homage 
of  a  poet  which  he  lays  at  the  feet  of  the  woman 
who  has  been  his  from  the  beginning  of  time — and 
you  will  concede  that  to  him  also." 

The  words  came  but  half-aloud  from  his  lips,  but 
so  hot  and  passionate  that  Adelaide  shuddered. 

"You  may  pay  homage  like  that  to  the  women  of 
your  country,  and  in  such  words,"  she  said.  "A 
German  woman  does  not  understand  it." 

"But  you  have  understood  it,  nevertheless,"  Hart- 
mut  burst  forth,  "and  you  also  understood  the  doc- 
trine of  the  intense  ardor  of  my  Arivana,  which 
bears  off  the  victory  over  all  human  laws.  I  saw  it 
that  evening  when  you  turned  your  back  apparently 
so  coldly  upon  me,  while  all  the  others  overwhelmed 
me  with  admiration.  Do  not  deceive  yourself, 
Ada.  When  the  divine  spark  falls  into  two  souls  it 
flames  up,  in  the  cold  north  as  well  as  the  fervent 
south,  and  it  already  burns  within  us.  In  this 
breath  of  fire,  will  and  will-power  die  the  death ;  it 
smothers  everything  that  has  existed,  and  nothing 
remains  but  the  holy,  blazing  flame  which  shines 
and  makes  happy,  even  if  it  destroys.  You  love  me, 
Ada — I  know  it— do  not  attempt  to  deny  it,  and  I — 
I  love  you  boundlessly." 

He  stood  before  her  in  the  stormy  triumph  of  the 
victor,  and  his  dark,  demoniacal  beauty  had,  per- 
haps, never  been  as  captivating  as  at  this  moment, 
when  the  fire  which  breathed  in  his  words  burst  also 
from  his  eyes — his  whole  being. 

And  he  did  speak  the  truth! 

The  woman  who  leaned  there  against  the  trunk  of 
the  tree  so  deathly  white,  loved  him  as  only  a  pure, 
proud  nature  can  love;  that  nature  which  so  far 
had  lived  in  the  delusion  that  her  emotions  would 


THE    SIGN   OF   FLAME.  219 

forever  lie  in  slumber,  called  by  the  world  coldness 
of  heart. 

Now  she  saw  herself  awaking  before  a  passion 
which  found  a  thousand-fold  echo  in  her  own 
breast;  now  that  breath  of  flame  floated  around 
her  also  with  its  scorching  glow;  now  came  the 
test! 

"Leave  me,  ^Herr  Rojanow,  instantly!"  cried 
Adelaide. 

Her  voice  sounded  half  smothered,  almost  in- 
audible, and  she  addressed  a  man  who  was  not  wont 
to  yield  when  he  felt  himself  victorious. 

He  started  to  approach  her  hastily — he  suddenly 
stood  still.  There  was  something  in  the  eyes — in 
the  bearing  of  the  young  Baroness  which  kept  him 
within  bounds,  but  again  he  breathed  her  name  in 
that  tone,  the  power  of  which  perhaps  he  knew  best 
—"Ada." 

She  shuddered  and  made  a  repellent  gesture. 

"Not  that  name.  For  you  I  am  Adelaide  von 
Wallmoden.  I  am  married — you  know  that." 

"Married  to  a  man  who  stands  on  the  border  of 
old  age,  whom  you  do  not  love,  and  who  could  not 
give  you  any  love  if  he  were  young.  That  cold, 
calculating  nature  knows  no  emotion  of  passion. 
The  Court,  his  position,  his  promotion,  are  every- 
thing to  him — his  wife,  nothing.  He  perhaps 
boasts  of  the  possession  of  a  jewel  which  he  does 
not  know  how  to  value,  and  for  which  another 
would  give  his  soul's  eternal  bliss." 

Adelaide's  lips  quivered.  She  knew  only  too  well 
that  he  was  right,  but  she  did  not  answer. 

"And  what  binds  you  to  this  man?"  continued 
Rojanow,  still  more  impressively.  "A  word — a 
single  'Yes'  uttered  by  you  without  knowing  its  full 


220  THE    SIGN    OF   FLAME. 

meaning — without  knowing  yourself.  Shall  it  bind 
you  for  your  life?  Shall  it  make  us  both  miser- 
able? No,  Ada,  love — the  eternal,  undying  right 
of  the  human  heart  does  not  bow  before  that.  Peo- 
ple may  call  it  guilt,  they  may  call  it  doom.  We 
stand  now  under  this  doom,  and  must  follow  it;  a 
single  word  shall  not  part  us." 

Far  off  at  the  horizon  the  flame  burst  up  with 
such  glaring  light  that  it  shone  also  over  the  open- 
ing on  the  hill. 

Hartmut  stood  for  a  moment  in  this  light.  He 
was  now  so  fully  the  son  of  his  mother;  resembling 
so  closely  her  beautiful  but  pernicious  features ;  but 
it  was  that  flash  of  lightning  that  brought  Adelaide 
back  to  consciousness;  or  had  it  shown  her  the  un- 
holy fire  which  burned  in  his  eyes?  She  retreated 
with  an  expression  of  unveiled  horror. 

"A  solemnly  given  and  accepted  word  is  a  vow," 
she  said  slowly,  "and  he  who  breaks  it  breaks  his 
honor." 

Hartmut  started.  Sudden  and  glaring  like  that 
flash  of  lightning  flamed  up  a  remembrance  in  his 
mind — the  resemblance  of  that  hour  when  he  had 
given  a  solemn  word — a  word  of  honor,  and — had 
broken  it! 

Adelaide  von  Wallmoden  straightened  her  slen- 
der figure;  her  features  still  showed  the  deathly 
pallor  as  she  continued  in  a  low  but  steady  tone  to 
Rojanow : 

"Abandon  this  persecution  which  I  have  felt  for 
weeks.  I  shudder  before  you — at  your  eyes,  your 
words.  I  feel  that  it  is  destruction  that  goes  out 
from  you,  and  one  does  not  love  that." 

"Ada!" 

Passionate  entreaty  sounded  in  the  word,  but  the 


THE    SIGN   OF   FLAME.  221 

low  voice  of  Adelaide  gained  firmness  quickly  as 
she  continued : 

"And  you  do  not  love  me.  It  has  often  seemed 
to  me  as  if  it  were  your  hatred  that  pursued  me. 
You  and  your  kind  cannot  love." 

Rojanow  kept  silence  in  bewilderment.  Who 
taught  this  young  woman,  still  so  inexperienced  in 
life,  to  look  so  deeply  into  his  inmost  heart?  He 
had  not  made  clear  to  himself  yet  how  inseparably 
hate  and  love  were  combined  in  his  passion. 

"And  you  tell  this  to  the  writer  of  Arivana!" 
he  burst  out  in  bitterness.  "They  have  called  my 
work  the  high  song  of  love " 

"Then  they  have  let  themselves  be  deceived  by  the 
veil  of  the  Oriental  legend  in  which  you  shrouded 
your  characters.  They  saw  then  only  the  East 
Indian  priest  sink  with  his  beloved  one  under  an 
iron,  inhuman  law.  You  are  perhaps  a  great  poet, 
and  perhaps  the  world  overwhelms  you  with  praise, 
but  it  tells  me  something  different — this  fervent, 
ardent  doctrine  of  your  Arivana.  It  has  taught  me 
to  know  its  creator — a  man  who  does  not  believe  in 
anything,  and  to  whom  nothing  in  the  world  is 
sacred;  no  duty  and  no  vow;  no  man's  honor  and 
no  woman's  virtue — who  would  not  hesitate  to  drag 
the  highest  into  the  dust  as  play  for  his  passion. 
I  still  believe  in  duty  and  honor;  I  still  believe  in 
myself,  and  with  this  faith  I  offer  defiance  to  the 
doom  you  hold  so  triumphantly  before  me.  I  could 
force  myself  to  death,  but  never  to  your  arms !" 

She  stood  before  him,  not  as  just  now  in  trem- 
bling fear — in  the  tortured  wrestling  with  a  secret 
struggle,  It  seemed  as  if,  with  each  of  the  anni- 
hilating words,  one  ring  of  the  chain  which  held 
possession  of  her  so  mysteriously  was  broken.  Her 


222  THE    SIGN   OF   FLAME. 

eyes  met  fully  and  freely  the  dark  look  which  had 
kept  her  a  prisoner  so  long;  the  charm  was  broken 
now  and  she  felt  it,  and  breathed  like  one  rescued. 

Again  that  flash  in  the  distance — noiseless,  with- 
out the  rumbling  of  thunder — but  it  was  as  if 
heaven  had  opened  in  all  its  vastness.  Fantastic 
formation  of  clouds  was  in  this  flaring  light — forms 
which  seemed  to  wrestle  and  struggle  with  each 
other,  born  of  the  storm,  and  yet  that  bank  of  cloud 
stood  motionless  at  the  horizon — and  just  as  mo- 
tionless stood  the  man,  whose  dark  features  showed 
now  an  ashy  paleness  in  the  glare  of  the  lightning. 

His  eyes  were  fixed  upon  the  young  woman,  but 
the  wild  fire  in  them  had  died  out,  and  his  voice 
had  a  strange  sound  as  he  said:  "And  this  is  the 
opinion  I  asked  for?  I  am  nothing  more  in  your 
eyes  than  an — outcast  ?" 

"A  lost  man,  perhaps.  You  have  forced  me  to 
this  confession." 

Hartmut  slowly  retreated  a  few  steps. 

"Lost!"  he  repeated  hoarsely.  "In  your  mean- 
ing, perhaps,  yes.  You  may  rest  assured,  gracious 
lady,  I  shall  not  approach  you  any  more.  One  does 
not  desire  to  hear  such  words  a  second  time — you 
stand  so  high  and  proud  upon  your  virtue  and, 
judge  so  severely.  Of  course  you  have  no  idea  what 
a  hot,  wild  life  can  make  of  a  person  who  wanders 
restlessly,  without  home  and  family,  through  the 
world.  You  are  right — I  have  not  believed  in  any- 
thing, either  upon  high  or  here  upon  the  earth — 
until  this  hour." 

There  was  something  in  his  tone,  in  his  whole 
bearing,  that  disarmed  Adelaide.  She  felt  that  she 
would  not  have  to  fear  another  burst  of  his  passion, 
and  her  voice  softened  involuntarily  at  her  answer. 


THE    SIGN"   OF   FLAME.  223 

"I  do  not  judge  anybody;  but  with  my  whole 
mind  and  being  I  belong  to  another  world,  with 
other  laws  than  yours.  I  am  the  daughter  of  an 
idolized  father,  who,  all  of  his  life,  knew  but  one 
road — that  of  earnest,  severe  duty.  On  that  he 
worked  himself  up  from  poverty  and  want  to  wealth 
and  honor.  He  led  his  children  along  this  road, 
and  his  memory  is  the  shield  which  covers  me  in 
every  hard  hour.  I  could  not  bear  it  if  I  had  to 
cast  down  my  eyes  before  the  picture  of  my  memory. 
You  probably  have  no  father?" 

A  long,  heavy  pause  ensued.  Hartmut  did  not 
answer,  but  his  head  sank  under  those  words,  the 
crushing  weight  of  which  the  Baroness  had  no  idea, 
and  his  eyes  were  upon  the  ground. 

"No,"  he  at  last  replied,  hoarsely. 

"But  you  have  the  memory  of  him  and  your 
mother." 

"My  mother!"  Rojanow  started  up  suddenly  and 
violently.  "Do  not  speak  of  her  in  this  hour — do 
not  speak  to  me  of  my  mother." 

It  was  an  outburst  of  mingled  bitterness,  of  accu- 
sation and  despair.  The  mother  was  being  judged 
by  her  son  in  this  exclamation.  He  rejected  her 
memory  as  a  desecration  of  this  hour. 

Adelaide  did  not  understand  him;  she  saw  only 
that  she  had  touched  a  topic  which  did  not  admit 
of  explanation,  and  she  also  saw  that  the  man  who 
stood  before  her  now  with  this  dark  look — with 
this  tone  of  despair — was  a  different  being  from 
that  one  who  had  approached  her  a  quarter  of  an 
hour  ago.  It  was  a  dark,  mysterious  depth  into 
which  she  gazed,  but  it  no  longer  caused  her  fear. 

"Let  us  end  this  conversation,"  she  said  earnestly. 
''You  will  not  seek  a  second,  one — I  trust  you.  Bu.t 


224  THE    SIGN   OF   FLAME. 

one  more  word  before  we  part.  You  are  a  poet.  I 
felt  it  in  spite  of  all  when  I  heard  your  work,  and 
poets  are  teachers  of  mankind.  They  can  lead  to 
happiness  or  destruction.  The  wild  flames  of  your 
Arivana  seem  to  burst  forth  from  the  depths  of  a 
life  which  you  yourself  seem  to  hate.  Look  there!" 
She  pointed  into  the  distance,  which  was  now 
lighted  up  again  in  a  flaming  glow.  "Those  are 
also  signs  of  flame,  but  they  come  from  on  high, 

and  they  point  to  another  road Farewell !" 

****** 

She  had  disappeared  long  ago,  but  Hartmut  still 
stood  as  if  rooted  to  the  ground.  He  had  not  re- 
plied with  one  word — had  made  no  motion ;  he  only 
looked  with  hot,  fixed  eyes  to  where  now  one  flash 
of  lightning  after  another  tore  the  clouds  asunder, 
shrouding  the  whole  country  with  a  fiery  cloak,  and 
then  he  looked  at  the  little  forest  lake  which  re- 
sembled so  closely  that  one  at  Burgsdorf,  with  its 
waving  reed  and  the  deceiving,  foggy  meadow, 
which  here  also  pressed  so  close  to  the  water. 

The  boy  had  once  dreamed  among  such  whisper- 
ing rushes  of  soaring  up  like  the  falcon  of  which 
his  race  bore  the  name,  in  boundless  freedom — ever 
higher  toward  the  sun — and  at  the  same  place  the 
decision  over  his  fate  had  been  made  on  that  dark 
autumn  night,  when  the  will-o'-the-wisp  led  its 
ghostly  dance. 

But  the  deserter  had  not  risen  to  the  sun — the 
earth  had  held  him  fast ;  the  rich,  green  meadow  had 
drawn  him  down  deeper  and  deeper.  He  had  felt 
at  times  that  the  intoxicating  cup  of  freedom  and 
life  which  the  hand  of  his  mother  gave  him  was 
poisoned,  but  no  precious  memory  shielded  him;  he 
did  not  dare  to  think  of  his  father. 


THE    SIGN   OF   FLAME. 

Over  there  in  the  distance  the  forms  of  cloud 
struggled  and  wrestled  wilder  and  wilder;  closer 
and  closer  together  they  drew,  and  in  the  midst  of 
this  struggle  and  this  darkness  the  flames  again 
burst  victoriously — the  powerful  flames  from  on 
high. 


CHAPTER  XXX. 

THE  winter  social  life  had  commenced  at  the 
Residenz,  where  the  professional  element  played  a 
conspicuous  role.  The  Duke,  who  loved  and  en- 
couraged art,  took  great  pride  in  gathering  re- 
nowned members  of  it  into  his  presence,  seeking  to 
retain  them  in  his  capitol,  and,  of  course,  society 
followed  largely  in  the  same  direction. 

The  young  poet  who  was  being  so  highly  favored 
by  the  Court,  and  whose  first  large  work  was  to  ap- 
pear on  the  court  stage,  was  from  the  first  an  inter- 
esting person  to  everybody,  and  the  tales  which 
were  told  about  him  served  to  increase  this  interest. 

It  was  very  unusual  for  a  Roumanian  to  compose 
his  work  in  the  German  language,  even  when  it 
was  whispered  that  he  had  received  his  education  in 
Germany.  Besides  that,  he  was  the  bosom  friend, 
and  the  guest  here  in  town  also,  of  Prince  Adels- 
berg,  and  all  sorts  of  touching  and  wonderful  stories 
were  narrated  about  this  friendship. 

Above  all,  Hartmut's  personality  gave  him  a  fa- 
vored position  wherever  he  went.  The  young, 
handsome,  highly-gifted  stranger,  whom  a  half- 
romantic,  half-mysterious  air  surrounded,  had  only 
to  make  his  appearance  even  here  to  draw  all  eyes 
upon  him. 

The  rehearsal  of  Arivana  had  commenced  imme- 
diately after  the  return  of  the  ducal  party  to  the 
Residenz,  under  the  personal  supervision  of  the 

225 


THE   SIGN   OF   FLAME.  23? 

poet;  while  Prince  Adelsberg,  who  in  his  enthu- 
siasm for  the  work  of  his  friend,  had  changed  into 
a  kind  of  manager,  made  life  hard  to  the  perform- 
ers by  all  sorts  of  requests  in  regard  to  the  filling  of 
characters  and  the  setting  of  the  play. 

He  knew  how  to  get  his  way,  and  the  scenery  and 
setting  were  brilliant ;  the  roles  were  all  filled  by  the 
first  talent  of  the  Court  Theatre,  and  even  the  opera 
singers  were  called  into  service,  since  one  of  the 
roles  required  a  rather  extensive  part  of  song.  One 
could  not  expect  this  from  an  actress,  therefore  a 
young  singer — Marietta  Volkmar — was  entrusted 
with  it. 

The  performance  of  the  play,  which  was  to  have 
taken  place  at  a  later  date,  was  being  hastened  as 
much  as  possible,  as  guests  were  expected  at  Court, 
and  the  new  drama,  which  toyed  so  poetically  and 
airily  with  the  Indian  legend  as  a  background,  was 
to  be  performed  before  the  illustrious  guests.  An 
unusual  success  was  anticipated. 

This  was  the  state  of  affairs  at  the  return  of 
Herbert  von  Wallmoden,  who  was  naturally  pain- 
fully surprised.  Although  he  had  learned  from  a 
casual  question  to  his  wife  that  Rojanow  still  kept 
up  his  intercourse  at  Furstenstein,  and  although  he 
had  not  counted  upon  a  sudden  disappearance  on 
Rojanow's  part  which  would  necessarily  have  caused 
comment,  still  he  had  been  of  the  firm  opinion  that 
in  spite  of  his  haughty  decision  to  remain,  Hartmut 
would  consider  it  again  and  make  his  retreat  as 
soon  as  Prince  Adelsberg  left  Rodeck.  Surely  he 
would  not  dare  to  appear  at  the  Prince's  side  at  the 
Residenz,  where  his  stay  might  be  made  impossible 
through  those  threatened  "explanations." 

But  the  Ambassador  had  not  counted  upon  the 


228  THE    SIGN   OF   FLAME. 

unyielding  defiance  of  -the  man  who  ventured  and 
dared  a  high  game  here.  Now,  after  a  few  weeks, 
he  found  him  in  a  favored  position  in  every  respect 
and  in  closest  intercourse  with  the  court  society. 

If  now,  just  before  the  performance  of  the  drama 
which  the  Duke  favored  so  decidedly,  and  of  which 
the  whole  town  was  already  talking,  one  should 
publish  the  disclosures  of  the  former  life  of  the 
poet,  it  would  touch  all  circles  unpleasantly  and  ap- 
pear malicious. 

The  experienced  diplomat  did  not  deceive  himself 
about  the  fact  that  the  deep  displeasure  which  would 
doubtless  take  possession  of  the  Duke  would  then 
fall  back  upon  himself,  because  he  had  not  spoken 
before  at  the  first  appearance  of  Rojanow.  Noth- 
ing was  left  for  him  to  do  but  to  keep  silence  and 
await  developments. 

Wallmoden  was  far  from  having  an  idea  that  a 
heavy  danger  had  threatened  himself  from  that 
quarter.  He  supposed  that  his  wife  knew  Hart- 
mut  only  as  a  companion  of  Prince  Adelsberg.  She 
had  never  mentioned  the  name  since,  after  her  ar- 
rival in  Berlin,  she  answered  a  seemingly  careless 
question  just  as  carelessly,  and  he  had  also  kept 
silence.  She  must  not  and  should  not  learn  any- 
thing of  those  old  connections  which  he  had  kept 
from  her  from  the  beginning. 

But  he  dared  not  be  silent  toward  his  nephew, 
Willibald,  if  he  did  not  wish  to  live  to  see  an- 
other scene  of  recognition  like  that  upon  the  Hoch- 
berg. 

The  young  lord  had  accompanied  his  relatives  to 
South  Germany;  was  to  remain  but  a  few  days  at 
the  Residenz,  and  go  from  there  to  Furstenstein  to 
his  betrothed,  for  the  Chief  Forester  had  specially 


THE    SIGN   OF   FLAME.  229 

requested  that  the  visit,  which  was  so  suddenly 
broken  off  in  September,  should  be  finished  now. 

"You  were  here  barely  a  week,"  he  wrote  to  his 
sister-in-law,  "and  now  I  beg  for  my  son-in-law  a 
little  longer.  Everything  has  been  put  in  order 
now  at  your  much-loved  Burgsdorf,  and  there  is  not 
much  to  do  in  November.  Therefore  at  least  send 
us  Willy  if  you  cannot  get  off.  A  refusal  will  not 
be  accepted.  Toni  expects  her  betrothed." 

Frau  von  Eschenhagen  saw  that  he  was  right  and 
was  willing  to  send  Willy — for  she,  of  course,  de- 
cided the  matter.  He  had  made  no  new  attempt 
to  rebel  against  the  maternal  ruling,  and  seemed, 
anyway,  to  have  come  to  his  senses  completely 
again.  He  was,  perhaps,  more  quiet  than  before, 
and  threw  himself  with  quite  unusual  zeal  into  his 
agricultural  work  after  his  return,  but  otherwise 
bore  himself  especially  well. 

He  remained  obstinate  only  upon  one  point:  he 
would  not  speak  with  his  mother  about  that  "silli- 
ness" which  had  caused  the  sudden  departure,  and 
avoided  every  explanation  concerning  it.  Appar- 
ently he  was  ashamed  of  that  quickly-flaming  affec- 
tion, which  probably  had  never  been  serious,  and 
did  not  wish  to  be  reminded  of  it. 

He  wrote  frequently  to  his  fiancee,  and  received 
just  as  punctual  replies.  The  correspondence,  how- 
ever, was  more  of  a  practical  than  a  tender  nature, 
and  mostly  concerned  plans  for  their  future  lives 
and  farm  arrangements ;  but  one  saw  from  this  that 
the  young  lord  considered  his  marriage,  for  which 
the  day  had  been  set,  as  quite  decided,  and  Frau 
Regine,  who  deemed  it  her  indisputable  right  to 
read  all  of  the  letters  of  the  engaged  couple,  de- 
clared herself  satisfied  with  them. 


230  THE   SIGtf   OF   FLAME. 

So  Willibald  received  a  gracious  permission  to 
visit  his  betrothed,  which  was  now  so  much  less 
hazardous  since  the  dangerous  little  person — Mari- 
etta Volkmar — was  at  present  at  the  Residenz, 
where  her  position  kept  her.  But  to  be  quite  sure, 
Frau  von  Eschenhagen  put  her  son  under  the  pro- 
tection of  her  brother,  who,  with  his  wife,  had  paid 
a  brief  visit  to  Burgsdorf  upon  his  return  from  the 
Stahlberg  works. 

If  Willibald,  during  the  two  or  three  days  of  his 
visit  at  the  Residenz,  remained  at  Wallmoden's 
house  and  went  with  them  exclusively,  no  danger 
was  to  be  feared. 

The  Ambassador  saw  soon  after  his  arrival  that 
he  would  be  forced  to  enlighten  his  nephew  regard- 
ing Hartmut  Rojanow,  for  the  name  was  mentioned 
on  all  sides  already  the  first  day.  Willy,  who  at 
that  former  time  had  been  the  confidant  of  the 
secret  rendezvous  of  Hartmut  and  his  mother,  and 
knew  her  name,  started  upon  hearing  it,  coupled 
with  a  remark  that  a  young  Roumanian  was  the 
gifted  poet,  which  made  him  still  more  suspicious. 

He  glanced  in  perplexity  at  his  uncle,  who  man- 
aged to  signal  to  him  just  in  time  not  to  question 
any  further,  and  who  then  embraced  the  first  op- 
portunity to  tell  him  the  truth. 

He  did  this,  of  course,  in  the  most  inconsiderate 
manner,  and  presented  Hartmut  as  an  adventurer 
of  the  worst  kind,  whom  he  would  in  a  very  short 
time  force  to  give  up  the  role  which  he  was  playing 
here,  without  being  in  the  least  entitled  to  it. 

Poor  Willibald's  head  swam  at  the  news.  His 
bosom  friend — to  whom  he  had  always  been  at- 
tached with  the  fondest  affection,  and  to  whom  he 
still  clung  in  spite  of  the  harsh  sentence  which  was 


THE    SIGN1   OF   FLAME. 

being  pronounced  upon  him — was  here  in  his  imme- 
diate vicinity,  and  he  was  not  to  go  to  see  him — 
was  not  even  to  recognize  him  if  chance  should 
bring  about  a  meeting.  Wallmoden  especially  im- 
pressed the  latter  upon  his  nephew,  who,  quite 
stunned,  promised  obedience  and  silence,  as  well 
toward  Adelaide  as  to  his  fiancee  and  the  Chief 
Forester;  but  he  could  not  understand  the  thing  by 
a  long  shot  yet.  He  needed  time  for  that  as  for 
everything. 


CHAPTER  XXXI. 

THE  day  upon  which  Arivana  was  to  be  pre- 
sented had  arrived.  It  was  the  first  work  of  a 
young  author  and  quite  unknown  poet,  but  the  cir- 
cumstances made  it  a  professional  event,  which  was 
viewed  by  everybody  with  intensest  interest. 

From  the  earliest  hour  the  Court  Theatre  was 
filled  to  its  utmost  capacity,  and  now  the  ducal 
couple  also  appeared  with  their  guests  to  occupy  the 
large  court  box.  Although  not  formally  announced, 
the  performance  had  the  character  of  a  benefit,  to 
which  the  brilliantly  lighted  house  and  the  rich  cos- 
tumes and  uniforms  bore  witness. 

Prince  Adelsberg,  who  appeared  in  the  court  box, 
was  as  excited  as  if  he  had  written  the  drama  him- 
self. Besides,  he  found  himself  in  as  rare  as  joyful 
accord  with  his  most  gracious  aunt,  who  had  called 
him  to  her,  and  was  speaking  about  the  work  of  the 
poet. 

"Our  young  friend  seems  to  have  caprices  like  all 
poets,"  she  remarked.  "What  a  notion  to  change 
the  name  of  the  heroine  at  the  last  moment !" 

"It  did  not  happen  at  exactly  the  last  moment," 
replied  Egon.  "The  change  was  made  at  Rodeck. 
Hartmut  suddenly  took  a  notion  that  the  name 
'Ada'  was  too  cold  and  pure  for  his  fiery  heroine, 
and  so  her  name  was  changed  forthwith." 

"But  the  name  Ada  stands  on  the  programme," 
said  the  Princess. 

232 


THE    SIGN   OF   FLAME.  233 

"Yes,  but  it  has  been  turned  over  to  an  entirely 
different  character  of  the  drama,  who  appears  only 
in  one  scene." 

"So  Rojanow  has  made  changes  since  his  read- 
ing at  Furstenstein  ?" 

"Only  a  few;  the  piece  itself  has  remained  quite 
the  same,  except  the  changing  of  names  and  that 
short  appearance  of  Ada ;  but  I  assure  Your  High- 
ness this  scene  which  Hartmut  has  added  to  the 
play  is  the  most  beautiful  thing  he  has  ever  written." 

"Yes,  of  course,  you  find  everything  beautiful 
which  comes  from  the  pen  of  your  friend,"  said  the 
Princess,  but  the  indulgent  smile  with  which  she 
dismissed  the  Prince  showed  that  she  was  of  the 
same  opinion. 

In  one  of  the  proscenium  boxes  were  seen  the 
Prussian  Ambassador  and  his  wife — returned  only  a 
day  or  two  from  his  vacation.  His  presence  at  the 
theatre  to-day  was  indeed  not  of  his  free  will,  for 
he  would  gladly  have  remained  away  from  this  per- 
formance, but  dared  not  out  of  consideration  for  his 
position.  The  Duke  himself  had  disposed  of  the 
boxes,  and  had  invited  the  foreign  diplomats  and 
their  ladies;  there  was  no  possibility  of  remaining 
away,  particularly  as  Herr  and  Frau  von  Wall- 
moden  had,  only  a  few  hours  previously,  partici- 
pated in  a  large  dinner  at  the  ducal  palace. 

Willibald,  who  had  won  permission  from  his 
uncle  to  at  least  get  acquainted  with  the  work  of 
his  friend,  sat  in  the  parquette.  Wallmoden  was 
not  pleased  with  his  presence  here,  but  could  not 
well  forbid  him  what  he  was  going  to  do  himself. 
Willy,  who  with  difficulty  had  found  a  seat,  had  not 
thought  that  a  member  of  the  opera  could  be  em- 
ployed in  the  theatre,  but  when  he  opened  the  pro- 


234  THE    SIGN"   OF   FLAME. 

gramme  and  came  suddenly  upon  the  name  of 
"Marietta  Volkmar,"  whom  he  was  to  see  to-night, 
he  folded  the  paper  with  a  quick  gesture  and  hid  it 
in  his  pocket,  regretting  now  sorely  having  come  to 
the  theatre. 

The  performance  now  commenced.  The  curtain 
rose  and  the  first  scene  passed  quickly.  It  was  a 
kind  of  preface,  to  acquaint  the  audience  with  the 
strange,  fantastic  world  into  which  they  were  to  be 
introduced. 

Arivana,  the  ancient,  sacred  place  of  sacrifice,  ap- 
peared in  a  magnificent  and  appropriate  setting. 
The  most  prominent  character  of  the  piece,  the 
young  priest,  who,  in  the  fanaticism  of  his  belief, 
renounces  utterly  everything  worldly  and  unholy, 
enters,  and  the  vow  which  removes  him  for  time 
and  eternity  from  the  world,  and  binds  him  body  and 
soul  to  his  deity,  resounds  in  powerful,  soulful 
verse. 

The  vow  was  offered — the  sacred  fire  flamed  high, 
and  the  curtain  fell. 

Applause,  for  which  the  Duke  gave  the  signal, 
came  from  all  sides.  Although  it  was  assured  that 
a  work  which  was  encouraged  and  favored  so  by  all 
should  have  a  certain  success,  at  least  upon  its  open- 
ing night,  there  was  something  else  mingled  in  the 
applause.  The  audience  already  felt  that  a  poet 
spoke  to  them ;  his  creation  had  perhaps  needed  the 
approval  of  the  Court,  but  now,  since  it  was  before 
them,  it  sustained  itself.  One  was  attracted  and 
held  by  the  language  —  the  characters  —  by  the 
theme  of  the  drama,  which  already  betrayed  itself  in 
its  principal  features,  and  when  the  curtain  rose 
afresh,  intense,  expectant  silence  rested  over  the 
vast  audience  hall. 


THE    SIGN   OF   FLAME.  235 

And  now  the  drama  developed  upon  a  back- 
ground as  rich  and  glowing  in  color  as  were  its 
language  and  its  characters.  The  magnificent  ver- 
dure, the  fairy-like  splendor  of  its  temples  and  pal- 
aces, the  people  with  their  wild  hatred  and  wilder 
love,  and  the  severe,  iron  laws  of  their  belief — all, 
all,  was  fantastic  and  strange;  but  the  feeling  and 
acting  of  these  people  were  familiar  to  every  one, 
for  they  stood  under  the  power  which  was  the  same 
centuries  ago,  as  to-day,  and  which  takes  root  the 
same  under  the  glowing  sky  of  the  tropics  as  in  the 
cold  North — the  passion  and  power  of  the  human 
heart. 

This  was  indeed  a  "glowing  doctrine,"  and  it 
preached  without  restraint  the  right  of  the  passions 
to  storm  over  law  and  institutions — over  oaths  and 
vows — to  reach  their  aims;  a  right  such  as  Hart- 
mut  Rojanow  had  understood  and  practised  with 
his  unreined  will,  who  recognized  no  law  or  duty, 
but  who  was  all  in  all  unto  himself. 

The  awakening  of  the  passion — its  powerful 
growth,  its  final  triumph — were  all  depicted  in 
transporting  language,  in  words  and  acts  which 
seemed  to  originate,  now  from  the  pure  heights  of 
the  ideal,  and  now  from  the  depths  of  an  abyss. 

Not  in  vain  had  the  poet  shrouded  his  characters 
in  the  veil  of  Oriental  legend,  but  under  this  veil  he 
dared  to  speak  and  indorse  that  which  would  hardly 
have  been  permitted  him,  and  he  did  it  with  a  bold- 
ness which  threw,  igniting  sparks  into  the  hearts  of 
the  listeners,  enchaining  them  demoniacally. 

Arivana's  success  was  assured  already  at  the  sec- 
ond act.  The  work  was  done  by  artists  who  be- 
longed to  the  best  on  the  stage,  and  they  were  doing 
the  best  playing  ever  witnessed.  Those^  taking  the, 


236  THE    SIGN   OF   FLAME. 

principal  roles  especially  acted  with  the  perfection 
of  abandon  which  only  real  enthusiasm  can  give. 

The  heroine's  name  was  no  longer  Ada.  Another 
form  now  bore  this  name — one  who  was  strangely 
foreign  to  this  excited  picture  of  passions;  one  of 
those  tender,  half-fairy-like  beings  with  whom  the 
Indian  legends  inhabit  the  snow  dwellings  upon  the 
icy  heights  of  the  Himalayas — cold  and  pure  as  the 
eternal  snow  which  shines  upon  them. 

Only  in  one  single  instance,  in  the  parting  scene, 
she  floated  on  spirit's  wings  through  the  stormy, 
excited  gathering,  remonstrating,  entreating,  warn- 
ing; and  Egon  was  right.  The  words  which  the 
poet  had  put  into  her  lips  were,  perhaps,  the  most 
beautiful  of  the  entire  drama.  It  burst  suddenly 
like  pure,  heavenly  light  into  the  flaming  glow  of  a 
crater;  but  the  scene  was  as  short  as  beautiful. 
Quick  as  a  breath  the  apparition  disappeared  again 
into  her  snow  dwelling,  and  down  yonder  at  the 
moonlit  bank  of  the  river  floated  the  entrancing  song 
of  the  Hindoo  girl — Marietta  Volkmar's  soft,  swell- 
ing voice — under  the  coaxing  charm  of  which  the 
cry  of  warning  from  the  heights  was  dispelled  and 
unheeded. 

The  last  act  brought  the  tragic  end;  the  break- 
ing of  the  doom  over  the  guilty  pair;  the  death  in 
the  flames.  This  death  was  no  atonement,  but  a 
triumph — "a  shining,  divine  death,"  and  with  the 
flames  there  also  flared  up  to  heaven  the  demoniacal 
doctrine  of  the  unconditional  right  of  the  passions. 

The  curtain  sank  for  the  last  time,  and  the  ap- 
plause, which  had  increased  after  every  act,  now 
grew  to  a  storm.  Usually  the  applause  at  the  court 
performances  was  kept  within  measured  bounds,  but 
to-day  it  broke  over  the  barriers.  The  flames  of 


THE    SIGN    OF   FLAME.  237 

Arivana  had  kindled  the  enthusiasm  with  which 
the  whole  house  demanded  the  appearance  of  the 
author. 

Hartmut  finally  appeared — without  embarrass- 
ment or  timidity — glowing  with  pride  and  joy;  he 
bowed  acknowledgment  to  the  audience,  which  to- 
day offered  him  a  drink  he  had  never  yet  tasted  in 
his  wildly  tossed  life.  They  were  intoxicating, 
these  first  sips  from  the  cup  of  fame,  and  with  this 
intoxicating  knowledge,  the  celebrated  poet  now 
looked  up  to  the  proscenium  box,  whose  occupants 
he  had  long  ago  recognized.  He  did  not  find,  how- 
ever, what  he  sought.  Adelaide  was  leaning  back 
in  her  chair,  and  her  face  was  hidden  by  her  open 
fan.  He  saw  only  the  cold,  unmoved  face  of  the 
man  who  had  insulted  him  so  deeply,  and  who  was 
now  a  witness  of  his  triumph. 

Wallmoden  understood  only  too  well  what  the 
flash  of  those  dark  eyes  told  him :  "Do  you  dare  yet 
to  despise  me?" 


CHAPTER  XXXII. 

THE  following  morning  at  an  early  hour  Willi- 
bald  von  Eschenhagen  walked  through  the  park, 
which  he  wanted  to  see — at  least  so  he  had  told  his 
uncle. 

The  large,  forest-like  park  which  was  situated 
directly  before  the  city,  was  indeed  worth  seeing, 
but  Willibald  paid  no  attention  to  the  landscape, 
which  did  not  look  very  inviting  this  bleak  Novem- 
ber day. 

Without  a  glance  to  right  or  left  he  walked 
quickly  forward,  taking  aimlessly  now  this  and  now 
that  path,  without  noticing  that  he  repeatedly  re- 
turned to  the  same  spot.  It  seemed  as  if  he  wished 
with  this  stormy  walk  to  calm  an  inner  unrest;  he 
had  really  gone  out  to  be  alone  in  the  free,  open  air. 

The  young  lord  tried  to  persuade  himself  that  it 
was  only  the  meeting  again  with  the  friend  of  his 
youth  that  had  taken  him  so  completely  out  of  his 
composure.  He  had  not  heard  anything  of  Hart- 
mut  for  fully  ten  years — did  not  even  dare  to  men- 
tion him  at  home,  and  now  he  suddenly  saw  the, 
lost  one  again,  with  the  halo  of  a  growing  poetical 
glory  around  his  head.  Deeply  and  wonderfully 
changed  in  appearance  and  manner,  in  spite  of  all 
he  was  still  the  Hartmut  with  whom  he  had  played 
his  boyish  games  so  often.  He  should  have  recog- 
nized him  at  the  first  glance  without  having  been 
prepared  for  the  meeting. 

Wallmoden,  on  the  contrary,  seemed  to  be  dis- 

(  238 


THE    SIGN   OF   FLAME.  239 

agreeably  surprised  at  yesterday's  success.  He  had 
hardly  spoken  during  the  drive  home;  his  wife  as 
little.  She  had  stated  in  the  carriage  that  the  hot 
air  of  the  theatre  had  given  her  an  intolerable  head- 
ache, and  retired  immediately  upon  their  arrival 
home.  The  Ambassador  followed  her  example, 
and  when  he  gave  his  hand  to  his  nephew,  who 
wished  him  good-night,  he  said  curtly :  "Our  under- 
standing remains  the  same,  Willibald.  You  are  to 
keep  silence  toward  everybody,  whoever  it  be.  Look 
out  that  you  do  not  betray  yourself,  for  the  name 
Rojanow  will  be  in  everybody's  mouth  during  the 
next  few  days.  He  has  had  luck  again  this  time — 
like  all  adventurers." 

Willibald  had  accepted  the  remark  silently,  but 
he  still  felt  that  it  was  something  else  which  gave 
the  author  of  Arivana  this  success. 

Under  other  circumstances  he  would  have  consid- 
ered this  work  as  something  unheard  of — incom- 
prehensible— without  understanding  it,  but,  strange 
to  say,  the  understanding  for  it  had  dawned  upon 
him  yesterday. 

One  could  fall  in  love  without  the  solemn  ap- 
proval of  the  respected  parents,  guardians  and  rela- 
tions ;  it  happened  not  only  in  India,  but  it  happened 
here  sometimes,  too.  One  could  also  incautiously 
and  hastily  burden  oneself  with  a  vow  and  break  it 
— but  what  then  ? 

Yes,  then  came  the  doom  which  Hartmut  had 
pictured  so  horribly  and  yet  so  fascinatingly.  Willy 
was  transporting  in  earnest  the  highly  romantic 
teachings  of  Arivana  into  Burgsdorf  affairs,  and 
the  doom  suddenly  assumed  the  features  of  Frau 
von  Eschenhagen,  who,  in  her  wrath,  was  surely 
worse  than  an  angry  caste  of  priests. 


240  THE    SIGN   OF   FLAME. 

The  young  lord  heaved  a  deep  sigh.  He  thought 
of  the  second  act  of  the  play,  when,  from  the  circle 
of  Hindoo  girls  who  marched  to  the  place  of  sacri- 
fice, a  delicate  figure  had  stepped  forth,  inexpressi- 
bly charming  in  the  white,  flowing  garments,  and 
the  wreath  of  flowers  in  her  curls.  His  eyes  had 
hung  riveted  upon  her,  who  appeared  but  twice  or 
thrice  upon  the  stage,  but  after  that  her  song  had 
sounded  from  the  banks  of  the  moonlit  river.  It 
was  the  same  clear,  sweet  voice  which  had  en- 
chanted the  listener  at  Waldhofen,  and  now  the  old 
mischief,  which  he  had  struggled  down  and  thought 
forgotten,  was  back  again.  It  stood  before  him 
with  giant  size,  and  the  worst  of  it  was  that  he  did 
not  even  consider  it  longer  as  a  mischief. 

The  tireless  walker  now  came  for  the  third  time 
to  a  small  temple,  open  in  front,  and  in  which  stood 
a  statue,  while  a  bench  in  the  background  invited 
one  to  rest. 

Willibald  entered  this  time  and  sat  down,  less 
from  a  desire  to  rest  than  to  be  able  to  follow  his 
thoughts  undisturbed. 

It  was,  perhaps,  ten  o'clock  in  the  morning,  and 
the  paths  were  at  this  hour  almost  deserted.  Only 
a  solitary  pedestrian — a  young  man  elegantly 
dressed — walked  leisurely  and  with  apparent  aim- 
lessness  along  the  paths.  He  seemed  to  be  expect- 
ing some  one,  for  he  glanced  impatiently  now  to- 
ward town,  and  now  toward  the  Parkstrasse  which 
bordered  the  park  for  some  distance. 

Suddenly  he  came  toward  the  temple  and  took  his 
stand  behind  it,  where  he  could  keep  the  path  in 
view  without  being  seen. 

In  about  five  minutes  a  young  lady  came  from 
the  city — a  delicate,  graceful  figure,  in  dark  cloak 


THE    SIGN   OF   FLAME.  241 

and  fur  cape,  with  her  fur  cap  pressed  closely  down 
upon  her  curly  head,  and  a  muff  in  her  hand,  from 
which  peeped  a  roll  of  music.  She  was  passing  the 
temple  quickly,  when  suddenly  she  uttered  an  ejac- 
ulation of  displeased  surprise: 

"Ah— Count  Westerburg!" 

The  young  man  had  approached  and  bowed. 

"What  a  happy  coincidence!  How  could  I  hope 
that  Fraulein  Marietta  Volkmar  would  take  so  early 
a  walk  in  the  park!" 

Marietta  stood  still  and  measured  the  speaker 
from  head  to  foot.  Her  voice  had  a  half -angry, 
half-contemptuous  sound  as  she  answered : 

"I  do  not  believe  in  this  coincidence,  Herr  Count. 
You  cross  my  path  too  often  and  persistently  for 
that,  although  I  have  shown  you  sufficiently  how 
annoying  your  attentions' are  to  me." 

"Yes,  you  are  endlessly  cruel  to  me,"  said  the 
Count,  reproachfully,  but  with  undeniable  imperti- 
nence. "You  do  not  accept  my  calls,  refuse  my 
flowers  and  offerings,  and  do  not  even  return  my 
greetings  when  I  pass  you  by.  What  have  I  done 
to  you?  I  have  ventured  to  lay  homage  at  your 

feet  in  the  form  of  jewels,  which  you  returned  to 
j> 

"With  the  request  that  you  discontinue  such  im- 
pertinences once  for  all,"  interrupted  the  young  girl 
vehemently.  "I  protest,  besides,  against  your  con- 
tinued advances.  You  have  actually  lain  in  wait 
for  me  here." 

"Mon  Dieu !  I  only  wished  to  beg  your  pardon 
for  that,  boldness,"  assured  Count  Westerburg,  ap- 
parently submissive,  but  at  the  same  time  he  stepped 
into  the  middle  of  the  narrow  path,  so  that  it  was 
impossible  to  pass.  "I  might  have  known  that  you 


242  THE    SIGN   OF   FLAME. 

are  unapproachable,  for  everybody  protests  that 
none  protects  her  name  so  jealously  as  you,  beauti- 
ful Marietta." 

"My  name  is  Fraulein  Volkmar !"  cried  Marietta, 
angrily.  "Keep  your  flattering  speeches  for  those 
who  allow  such  things  to  be  told  them.  I  shall  not 
do  it,  and  if  your  advances  do  not  cease  I  shall  have 
to  call  in  protection." 

"Whose  protection?"  sneered  the  Count.  "Per- 
haps that  of  the  old  lady  with  whom  you  live  and 
who  is  always  and  everywhere  at  your  side,  except 
in  your  walk  to  Professor  Marani.  The  singing 
studies  at  the  old  gentleman's  are  not  dangerous, 
and  that  is  the  only  walk  you  take  alone." 

"Then  you  knew  that  I  went  to  the  Parkstrasse 
at  this  hour !  Then  it  is  actually  an  attack !  Please 
let  me  pass.  I  wish  to  go." 

She  tried  to  pass  by  him,  but  the  young  man 
stretched  out  his  arms  so  that  he  filled  the  path. 

"You  will  assuredly  permit  me  to  accompany 
you,  mein  Fraulein.  Only  look,  the  path  is  quite 
lonely  and  deserted;  there  is  not  a  soul  around.  I 
really  must  offer  you  my  escort." 

The  path  seemed,  indeed,  quite  deserted,  and  an- 
other girl  might  have  been  intimidated  by  this  ref- 
erence to  her  defencelessness,  but  the  little  Marietta 
only  drew  herself  up  undauntedly. 

"Do  not  dare  to  attempt  to  follow  me  by  even  a 
step."  she  cried  in  deepest  anger.  "Your  escort  is 
just  as  unbearable  to  me  as  your  presence.  How 
often  must  I  tell  you  that?" 

"Ah,  so  angry !"  cried  the  Count  with  a  malicious 
smile.  "Well,  I  shall  not  have  ventured  this  attack 
for  nothing.  I  shall  at  least  repay  myself  with  a 
kiss  from  those  charming,  angry  lips." 


THE   SIGN   OF   FLAME.  243 

He  actually  prepared  to  fulfil  his  threat,  approach- 
ing the  quickly  retreating  girl,  but  at  that  moment, 
propelled  by  an  awful  blow,  he  flew  to  one  side  and 
fell  full  length  upon  the  damp  ground,  where  he 
remained  lying  in  a  very  pitiable  plight. 

Startled  at  this  unexpected  and  stormy  succor, 
Marietta  turned  around,  and  her  face,  flushed  from 
insult  and  anger,  bore  expression  of  great  amaze- 
ment as  she  recognized  her  deliverer,  who  now  stood 
at  her  side,  looking  wrathfully  at  the  form  upon  the 
ground,  as  if  it  were  his  highest  desire  to  quite 
finish  him. 

"Herr  von  Eschenhagen — you!" 

In  the  meantime  Count  Westerburg  had  strug- 
gled painfully  to  his  feet  and  now  drew  near  his 
aggressor  threateningly. 

"How  dare  you !     Who  gives  you  the  right " 

"I  advise  you  to  remain  ten  feet  away  from  this 
young  lady,"  interrupted  Willibald,  placing  himself 
in  front  of  Marietta,  "or  you  will  fly  off  again,  and- 
the  second  blow  might  not  prove  as  soft  as  the 
first." 

The  Count,  a  slender,  far  from  powerful  man, 
measured  the  giant  before  him,  whose  fist  he  had 
already  felt,  but  one  look  was  enough  to  convince 
him  that  he  would  come  out  second  best  in  an  en- 
counter. 

"You  will  give  me  satisfaction — if  you  are  worth 
it,"  he  hissed  in  a  half-choked  voice.  "Probably 
you  do  not  know  whom  you  have  before  you " 

"An  impudent  fellow  whom  one  chastises  with 
pleasure,"  said  Willy  stolidly.  "Please  remain 
standing  where  you  are,  or  I  will  do  it  now.  My 
name  is  Willibald  von  Eschenhagen.  I  am  lord  of 
Burgsdorf,  and  can  be  found  at  the  mansion  of  the. 


244  THE    SIGN   OF    FLAME. 

Prussian  Ambassador  if  you  should  have  more  to 

tell  me If  you  please,  mein  Fraulein,  you  may 

trust  yourself  unhesitatingly  to  my  protection.  I 
pledge  myself  that  you  will  not  be  molested  fur- 
ther." 

And  now  something  unprecedented,  unheard  of, 
happened.  Herr  von  Eschenhagen,  without  stam- 
mering, without  showing  embarrassment  of  any 
kind,  offered  his  arm  with  a  genuinely  chivalrous 
movement  to  the  young  lady,  and  carried  her  off 
without  concerning  himself  further  about  the  Count. 


CHAPTER  XXXIII. 

MARIETTA  had  accepted  the  proffered  arm  with- 
out speaking  a  word  until,  having  reached  a  con- 
siderable distance,  she  commenced,  with  a  timidity 
otherwise  foreign  to  her  manner:  "Herr  von  Es- 
chenhagen " 

"Mein  Fraulein." 

"I — I  am  very  grateful  for  your  protection,  but 
the  Count — you  have  insulted  him — even  with  a 
blow.  He  will  challenge  you  and  you  will  have  to 
accept  it." 

"Of  course,  with  the  greatest  pleasure,"  said 
Willy,  and  his  face  was  beaming  as  if  the  prospect 
gave  him  unmixed  delight. 

His  awkward,  embarrassed  manner  had  suddenly 
disappeared;  he  felt  himself  a  hero  and  deliverer, 
and  enjoyed  the  new  position  immensely. 

Marietta  looked  at  him  in  speechless  amazement. 

"But  it  is  awful  that  this  should  happen  for  my 
sake !"  she  commenced  again,  "and  that  it  should  be 
just  you." 

"Perhaps  that  is  not  agreeable  to  you,"  said  the 
young  lord,  who  in  his  present  elated  mood  took 
offence  at  the  last  remark.  "But  Fraulein,  in  such 
a  case  one  has  no  choice.  Forced  by  necessity,  you 
had  to  accept  me  as  protector,  even  if  I  did  not 
stand  very  high  in  your  esteem." 

A  burning  blush  spread  over  Marietta's  face  at 
the  remembrance  of  that  hour  when  she  had  poured 


246  THE   SIGN   OF   FLAME. 

out  her  supreme  contempt  on  the  man  who  now 
took  her  part  so  gallantly. 

"I  thought  only  of  Toni  and  her  father,"  she 
returned  in  a  low  voice.  "I  am  blameless  in  this 
matter,  but  if  I  should  be  the  cause  of  your  being 
torn  from  your  fiancee " 

"Toni  must  accept  it  then  as  providential,"  said 
Willy,  upon  whom  the  mention  of  his  betrothed 
made  little  impression.  "One  can  lose  his  life  any- 
where, and  one  must  not  always  expect  the  worst 

consequences Where  shall  I  carry  you,  Frau- 

lein?  To  the  Parkstrasse?  I  believe  I  heard  that 
you  wished  to  go  there." 

She  shook  her  head  quickly. 

"No,  no !  I  intended  going  to  Professor  Marani, 
who  is  teaching  me  a  new  role,  but  I  cannot  sing 
now — it  is  impossible.  Let  us  look  for  a  carriage ; 
we  may  find  one  over  there.  I  would  like  to  go 
home." 

Willibald  turned  his  steps  at  once  in  the  appointed 
direction,  and  they  walked  on  silently  to  the  edge  of 
the  park,  where  several  cabs  were  standing. 

The  young  girl  stopped  here  and  looked  anxiously 
and  entreatingly  at  her  companion. 

"Herr  von  Eschenhagen — must  it  really  be? 
Cannot  the  matter  be  smoothed  over?" 

"Hardly:  I  have  given  the  Count  a  heavy  blow 
and  called  him  an  impudent  fellow,  and  shall  stand 
to  that,  of  course,  if  it  should  come  to  any  explana- 
tion ;  but  do  not  worry  about  that.  The  affair  will 
probably  be  settled  with  a  few  scratches  by  to- 
morrow or  the  day  after." 

"And  must  I  remain  two  or  three  days  in  this 
anxious  uncertainty  ?  Will  you  not  at  least  send  me, 
jyord  about  it?" 


THE   SIGtf   OF   FLAME.  247 

Willibald  looked  into  the  dark,  tearful  eyes,  and 
with  that  look  there  came  into  his  eyes  that  strange 
sudden  glow  as  on  that  day  when  he  heard  the  voice 
of  the  "singvogelchen"  for  the  first  time. 

"If  everything  passes  off  happily  I  shall  come  my- 
self and  bring  you  word,"  he  replied.  "May  I?" 

"Oh,  certainly,  certainly.  But  if  an  accident  oc- 
curs— if  you  should  fall?" 

"Then  keep  me  in  better  remembrance  than  here- 
tofore, mein  Fraulein,"  said  Willibald,  earnestly 
and  cordially.  "You  must  have  considered  me  a 
great  coward — oh,  do  not  say  anything!  You 
were  right.  I  felt  it  myself  bitterly  enough — but 
it  was  my  mother  whom  I  was  accustomed  to  obey, 
and  who  loves  me  very  much.  But  you  shall  see 
now  that  I  know  how  a  man  must  act  when  a  de- 
fenceless girl  is  being  insulted  in  his  presence.  I 
will  now  erase,  if  need  be,  with  my  blood,  that  bad 
hour." 

Without  giving  her  time  to  reply  he  called  one  of 
the  waiting  cabs,  opened  the  door,  and  gave  the 
driver  the  street  and  number  which  Marietta  had 
given  him.  She  entered  the  carriage  and  stretched 
out  her  little  hand  to  him  once  more.  He  held  it 
for  a  moment,  then  the  young  girl  threw  herself 
back  upon  the  cushion  with  a  stifled  sob,  and  the 
carriage  rolled  away. 

Willy  followed  it  with  his  eyes  until  nothing 
more  could  be  seen  of  it,  then  he  drew  himself  up 
and  said  with  a  kind  of  grim  satisfaction:  "Now 
take  care,  Herr  Count !  It  will  be  a  real  pleasure  to 
me  now  to  fire  until  sight  and  hearing  leave  me." 


CHAPTER  XXXIV. 

TWILIGHT  came  on  early  this  bleak  November 
day,  and  the  Adelsberg  palace  was  already  lighted 
when  the  Prince,  returning  from  a  short  drive, 
reached  the  portal. 

"Is  Herr  Rojanow  in  his  rooms?"  he  inquired  of 
the  servant  who  hastened  up. 

"At  your  service,  Your  Highness,"  the  man  re- 
plied, bowing  low. 

"Order  the  carriage  at  nine  o'clock.  We  drive 
to  the  ducal  palace." 

Egon  mounted  the  stairs  and  entered  the  apart- 
ments of  his  friend,  which  adjoined  his  own  on  the 
first  floor,  and  which,  like  all  the  rest  of  the  princely 
house,  were  furnished  with  antique  splendor. 

A  lamp  burned  upon  the  table  of  the  sitting-room. 
Hartmut  lay  stretched  upon  a  lounge  in  a  position 
indicative  of  utter  weariness  and  exhaustion. 

"Are  you  resting  upon  your  laurels?"  asked  the 
Prince,  laughing  and  drawing  near.  "I  cannot 
blame  you,  for  you  have  not  had  a  moment's  peace 
to-day.  It  is  really  a  rather  trying  business  to  be 
a  new  rising  star  in  the  poetical  firmament ;  nerve 
is  required  for  it.  The  people  actually  fight  each 
other  for  the  honor  of  being  allowed  to  tell  you 
flatteries.  You  have  held  a  grand  reception  to- 
day." 

"Yes,  and  now  we  have  to  go  to  the  Court  be- 
sides," said  Hartmut  in  a  weary  voice.  The  pros- 
pect seemed  to  have  no  charm  for  him. 

248 


THE    SIGN   OF   FLAME.  349 

"We  must,  indeed.  The  illustrious  ladies  and 
gentlemen  wish  also  to  bring  their  homage  to  the 
poet — my  most  gracious  aunt  at  their  head.  You 
know  she  is  a  kind  of  bel-esprit,  and  believes  to  have 
found  a  kindred  soul  in  you.  Thank  God,  she  does 
not  order  me  to  her  side  so  continually,  and  perhaps 
through  this  she  will  forget  those  unfortunate 
schemes  for  my  marriage.  But  you  seem  to  be  very 
unappreciative  of  the  ducal  favors  which  rained 
upon  you  yesterday.  What  is  the  matter?  You 
hardly  answer.  Are  you  not  well  ?" 

"I  am  tired.  I  wish  I  could  escape  all  this  noise 
and  flee  to  the  quiet  of  Rodeck." 

"Rodeck!  Ah,  it  must  be  charming  there  at 
present,  with  the  November  fogs,  and  the  wet,  leaf- 
less forests !  Brrr !  a  real  spook's  haunt !" 

"Nevertheless,  I  have  a  real  longing  for  that 
gloomy  solitude,  and  I  shall  go  there  soon  for  a  few 
days.  I  hope  you  have  no  objections?" 

"I  have  very  many  objections  to  it,"  exclaimed 
Egon,  indignantly.  "What  notion  is  this,  I  beg  of 
you?  Now,  when  the  whole  town  lifts  the  poet  of 
Ariv^na  upon  the  shield,-  will  you  withdraw  your 
honored  presence  and  escape  all  the  triumphs  and 
attentions  to  bury  yourself  alive  in  a  haunted  little 
forest  nook,  which  is  only  bearable  in  sunshine! 
Everybody  will  find  it  incomprehensible." 

"I  don't  care.  I  need  solitude  now.  I  go  to 
Rodeck." 

Egon  shook  his  head.  Although  he  was  accus- 
tomed to  seeing  his  friend  act  in  this  domineering, 
inconsiderate  manner  whenever  the  notion  seized 
him,  and  had  himself  spoiled  him  in  this  respect 
with  all  his  might,  the  present  idea  seemed  too  pre- 
posterous. 


250  THE   SIGtf   OF   FLAME. 

"I  believe  my  most  gracious  aunt  is  right,"  he 
said  half  reproachfully,  half  jestingly.  "She  re- 
marked yesterday  at  the  theatre,  'Our  young  poet 
has  caprices  like  all  of  his  class.'  I  think  so,  too. 
What  is  the  matter  now,  really,  Hartmut?  Yes- 
terday and  to-day  you  beamed  with  triumph,  and 
now  I  have  left  you  hardly  an  hour,  when  I  find  you 
in  a  regular  attack  of  melancholy.  Have  the  papers 
annoyed  you?  Perhaps  it  is  some  malicious,  en- 
vious critic?" 

He  pointed  to  the  writing  table,  where  the  even- 
ing papers  lay. 

"No,  no,"  returned  Rojanow  quickly.  But  he 
turned  his  head  so  that  his  face  was  in  shadow. 
"The  papers  contain  only  general  remarks  so  far, 
and  they  are  all  flattering.  You  know  that  I  am 
subject  to  such  moods,  which  often  overcome  me 
without  cause." 

"Yes,  I  know  that,  but  now  that  good  luck  over- 
whelms you  on  all  sides,  those  moods  should  absent 
themselves.  But  you  really  look  haggard — that 
comes  from  the  excitement  through  which  both  of 
us  have  passed  during  these  last  few  weeks." 

He  bent  over  his  friend  with  concern,  and  Hart- 
mut, in  rising  regret  for  his  brusque  manner, 
stretched  out  his  hand. 

"Forgive  me,  Egon.  You  must  have  patience 
with  me — it  will  pass  off." 

"I  hope  so,  for  I  want  to  do  proud  with  my  poet 
to-night.  But  I  will  go  now,  so  that  you  can  rest. 
Do  not  let  anybody  disturb  you.  We  have  still 
three  hours  before  we  have  to  go." 

The  Prince  left  the  room.  He  had  not  seen  the 
bitter  expression  trembling  around  Hartmut's  mouth 
when  he  spoke  of  his  overwhelming  good  fortune, 


THE   SIGN   OP   FLAME.  25i 

and  yet  he  had  spoken  the  truth.  Fame  was  happi- 
ness— perhaps  the  highest  in  life — and  to-day  had 
confirmed  the  triumph  of  yesterday,  until  suddenly, 
an  hour  ago,  a  sharp  discord  had  fallen  into  the 
flattering  tune. 

The  young  poet  had  scanned  the  papers  which  he 
found  upon  his  table  on  his  return.  They  did  not 
contain  explicit  remarks  about  Arivana,  but  recog- 
nized unanimously  the  great  success  and  powerful 
impression  of  the  work,  and  promised  detailed  criti- 
cism the  next  day. 

Suddenly,  in  turning  to  the  last  page,  Hartmut 
came  upon  a  name,  at  the  sight  of  which  intense, 
anxious  surprise  overwhelmed  him. 

The  next  moment,  however,  he  recognized  that 
he  was  not  the  one  concerned  in  the  article.  It 
stated  that  the  last  journey  of  the  Prussian  Am- 
bassador to  Berlin  seemed  to  have  been  of  greater 
importance  than  was  at  first  supposed.  In  an  audi- 
ence with  the  Duke  immediately  after  his  return, 
Herr  von  Wallmoden  had  apparently  brought  some 
very  important  things  to  light;  and  now,  a  high- 
standing  Prussian  officer,  who  was  the  bearer  of 
important  messages  to  His  Highness,  was  expected. 
It  doubtless  concerned  military  matters,  and  Colonel 
Hartmut  von  Falkenried  would  arrive  in  a  few  days. 

Hartmut  dropped  the  paper  as  if  it  had  suddenly 
become  red-hot  iron.  His  father  would  come  to 
this  place  and  would  certainly  hear  everything  from 
Wallmoden — must  hear  everything.  The  chance 
of  meeting  was  then  very  probable. 

"When  you  shall  have  gained  a  great,  proud  fu- 
ture, approach  him  again  and  ask  if  he  still  dares 
to  despise  you." 

Zalika  had  whispered  it  to  her  son  when  he  strug- 


252  THE   SIGN   OF   FLAME. 

gled  against  flight — against  the  breaking  of  his 
word  of  honor.  Now  the  beginning  of  his  future 
was  made.  The  name  Rojanow  already  bore  the 
laurel  of  the  poet,  and  with  that  the  whole  past  was 
erased.  It  should  be — it  must  be!  This  convic- 
tion flashed  in  the  glance  which  Hartmut  had 
thrown  so  triumphantly  up  to  the  Ambassador's 
box  yesterday. 

But  now,  when  it  meant  the  meeting  of  his 
father's  eyes,  the  defiant  one  trembled.  Those  eyes 
were  the  only  thing  upon  earth  that  he  feared. 

Hartmut  was  half  decided  to  go  to  Rodeck  and 
return  only  when  he  heard  through  the  papers  that 
"the  high-standing  officer"  had  left  the  Residenz. 

Yet  something  kept  him  here — a  secret  but  burn- 
ing longing.  Perhaps  the  hour  of  reconciliation 
had  now  come  when  the  poet's  fame  rose  so  bril- 
liantly ;  perhaps  Falkenried  would  see  now  that  such 
a  power  needed  liberty  and  life  to  develop,  and 
would  pardon  the  unfortunate,  boyish  folly  which, 
with  his  views,  had  hurt  him  so  deeply. 

Was  he  not  his  child?  his  only  son,  whom  he  had 
embraced  with  such  passionate  tenderness  that 
night  at  Burgsdorf  ?  At  this  remembrance  a  long- 
ing for  those  all-powerful  arms,  for  the  home  which 
should  no  longer  be  lost  to  him,  for  the  whole  boy- 
hood which,  although  constrained,  had  yet  been  so 
happy,  pure  and  guiltless,  flooded  Hartmut 's  in- 
most heart. 


CHAPTER  XXXV. 

AT  this  moment  the  door  opened  and  the  butler 
entered,  bearing  upon  a  waiter  a  card.  He  pre- 
sented it  to  Hartmut,  who  refused  it  with  an  impa- 
tient gesture. 

"Did  I  not  tell  you  that  I  did  not  wish  to  see  any 
one  else  to-day?  I  wish  to  remain  undisturbed." 

"I  told  the  gentleman  so,"  replied  the  servant, 
"but  he  begged  me  to  at  least  give  you  his  name — 
Willibald  von  Eschenhagen." 

Hartmut  started  suddenly  from  his  reclining  posi- 
tion. He  could  not  believe  that  he  had  heard 
aright. 

"What  is  the  gentleman's  name?" 

"Von  Eschenhagen — here  is  the  card." 

"Ah,  let  him  enter,  instantly !" 

The  servant  departed,  and  Willibald  entered  the 
next  moment,  but  remained  standing  at  the  door 
in  uncertainty.  Hartmut  had  sprung  up  and  looked 
toward  him.  Yes,  there  were  the  same  familiar 
features — the  dear,  well-known  face,  the  honest 
blue  eyes  of  his  friend,  and  with  the  passionate  cry, 
"Willy — my  dear  old  Willy,  is  it  you!  You  come 
to  me?"  he  threw  himself  stormily  upon  his  breast. 

The  young  lord,  who  had  no  idea  how  strangely 
his  appearance  at  this  moment  fitted  into  his  friend's 
dreams  of  his  youth,  was  most  perplexed  over  this 
reception.  He  remembered  how  domineering  Hart- 
mut had  always  been  to  him,  and  how  he  had  made 
him  feel  his  mental  inferiority  at  every  opportunity. 

35? 


254  THE   SIGN   OF   FLAME. 

He  had  thought  yesterday  that  the  highly  honored 
author  of  Arivana  would  be  still  more  imperious 
and  haughty,  and  now  he  found  an  overflowing  ten- 
derness. 

"Are  you  glad,  then,  at  my  coming,  Hartmut?" 
he  asked,  still  somewhat  doubtful.  "I  was  almost 
afraid  it  would  not  be  acceptable." 

"Not  acceptable,  when  I  see  you  now  after  a  lapse 
of  ten  long  years!"  cried  Hartmut  reproachfully, 
and  he  drew  his  friend  down  beside  him,  question- 
ing him  and  covering  him  so  with  affection  that 
Willy  lost  all  embarrassment  and  also  returned  to 
the  old  familiarity.  He  said  that  he  was  in  town 
for  only  three  days  and  that  he  was  on  his  way  to 
Furstenstein. 

"Oh,  yes;  you  are  betrothed,"  joined  in  Rojanow. 
"I  heard  at  Rodeck  who  was  to  be  the  Chief  For- 
ester's son-in-law,  and  have  also  seen  Fraulein  von 
Schonan.  Let  me  congratulate  you  with  all  my 
heart/" 

Willibald  accepted  the  good  wishes  with  a  pecu- 
liar face,  and  looked  to  the  floor  as  he  replied,  half 
audibly :  "Yes,  but  to  tell  the  truth,  mamma  made 
the  engagement." 

"I  should  have  known  that,"  said  Hartmut,  laugh- 
ing, "but  you  have  at  least  said  'Yes'  without  being 
forced?" 

Willy  did  not  answer.  He  studied  the  carpet 
intently  and  suddenly  asked  quite  disconnectedly: 
"Hartmut,  how  do  you  do  when  you  compose 
poetry?" 

"How  do  I  do?"  Hartmut  with  an  effort  sup- 
pressed his  laughter.  "Really  that  is  not  easy  to 
tell.  I  do  not  believe  that  I  can  explain  it  suffi- 
ciently." 


THE    SIGN    OF   FLAME.  255 

"Yes,  it  is  a  funny  condition  to  make  poetry," 
assented  the  young  man  with  a  sad  shake  of  the 
head.  "I  experienced  it  last  night  when  I  returned 
from  the  theatre." 

"What!    You  compose  poetry?" 

"And  such  poetry!"  cried  Willy  in  high  satisfac- 
tion, but  added  in  somewhat  subdued  tones :  "Only 
I  cannot  find  rhymes,  and  it  also  sounds  quite  dif- 
ferent from  your  verses.  To  tell  the  truth,  it  did 
not  run  right,  and  I  want  to  ask  you  how  you  do  the 
affair.  You  know  it  is  not  to  be  anything  grand 
like  your  Arivana — only  just  a  little  poem." 

"Of  course  to  'her,'  "  finished  Hartmut. 

"Yes,  to  her,"  assented  the  young  lord  with  a 
deep  breath,  and  now  his  listener  laughed  aloud. 

"You  are  a  model  son,  Willy,  one  must  confess. 
It  does  happen  sometimes  that  one  is  betrothed  at 
paternal  or  maternal  command,  but  you  dutifully 
fall  in  love  with  your  bride-elect  besides,  and  even 
compose  poetry  to  her." 

"But  it  is  not  to  the  right  one,"  exclaimed  Willi- 
bald  suddenly,  with  such  a  strained  expression  that 
Rojanow  looked  at  him  in  perplexity.  He  really 
believed  that  his  friend  was  not  in  his  senses;  and 
Willibald  must  also  have  felt  that  he  was  making 
a  peculiar  impression.  He  therefore  began  an  ex- 
planation, but  anticipated  himself  so  much  and  was 
so  vague,  that  the  affair  became  only  the  more 
tangled. 

"In  fact,  I  have  had  an  encounter  with  a  fellow 
this  morning  who  dared  to  insult  a  young  lady — 
Fraulein  Marietta  Volkmar,  from  the  Court  The- 
atre. I  knocked  him  to  the  ground  and  I  would  do 
it  again  to  him  or  to  anybody  who  gets  too  near 
Fraulein  Volkmar," 


256  THE    SIGN    OF   FLAME. 

He  stretched  out  his  arm  so  threateningly  that 
Hartmut  caught  it  quickly  and  restrained  him. 

"Well,  I  do  not  intend  to  get  near  her — you  can 
spare  me  for  the  present.  But  what  is  Marietta 
Volkmar  to  you — the  little  mirror  of  virtue  of  our 
opera — who  has  so  far  been  considered  unapproach- 
able?" 

"Hartmut,  I  request  that  you  speak  of  this  lady 
with  reverence.  In  short,  this  Count  Westerburg 
has  challenged  me.  I  am  going  to  exchange  shots 
with  him,  and  hope  to  give  him  a  good  reminder." 

"Well,  you  really  are  making  good  progress  in 
romance,"  said  Hartmut,  who  listened  with  ever- 
increasing  interest.  "You  have  been  here  only  three 
days  and  have  commenced  with  a  quarrel  which 
ends  in  a  challenge,  and  are  the  knight  and  pro- 
tector of  a  young  singer — have  a  duel  for  her  sake. 
Willy,  for  heaven's  sake,  what  will  your  mother 
say?" 

"This  concerns  an  affair  of  honor,  and  my  mother 
cannot  interfere  here,"  declared  Willy  with  a  really 
heroic  effect,  "but  now  I  must  get  a  second  here, 
where  I  am  quite  a  stranger  and  do  not  know  a  soul. 
Uncle  Herbert  must  not  hear  anything  about  it,  of 
course,  or  he  would  interfere  with  the  police.  So 
I  decided  to  come  to  you  and  ask  you  if  you  would 
render  me  this  service." 

"That  was  what  brought  you,"  said  Rojanow,  in 
a  tone  of  painful  disappointment.  "I  really  be- 
lieved old  friendship  had  done  it ;  but,  nevertheless, 
of  course,  I  am  at  your  command.  What  weapons 
does  the  challenge  demand  ?" 

"Pistols!" 

"Well,  you  know  what  to  do  with  them.  We 
practiced  often  enough  with  a  target  at  Burgsdorf, 


THE    SIGN   OF   FLAME.  257 

and  you  were  a  good  shot.  I  shall  look  up  the  sec- 
ond of  your  opponent  to-morrow  morning  and  send 
you  word  then.  I  have  to  do  that  in  writing,  as  I 
do  not  enter  the  house  of  Herr  von  Wallmoden." 

Willy  only  nodded.  He  thought  Wallmoden's 
hostility  was  being  reciprocated,  but  deemed  it  best 
not  to  make  any  inquiries  upon  this  point. 

"Very  well,  just  write  me,"  he  replied.  "Ar- 
range things  as  seems  best  to  you;  I  shall  be  satis- 
fied with  everything;  I  have  no  experience  in  such 
things.  Here  is  the  address  of  the  second,  and  now 
I  must  go.  I  have  several  things  to  put  in  order 
yet,  in  case  the  worst  happens." 

He  arose  and  extended  his  hand  to  his  friend  in 
farewell,  but  Hartmut  took  no  notice  of  it.  His 
eyes  were  fixed  on  the  floor,  as  he  said  in  low,  hesi- 
tating tones:  "One  thing  more,  Willy.  Burgsdorf 
is  so  near  Berlin.  Perhaps  you  often  see " 

"Whom?"  asked  Willibald,  as  Hartmut  paused. 

"My — my  father." 

The  young  lord  became  visibly  embarrassed  at 
the  question.  He  had  avoided  the  mention  of  Falk- 
enried  during  the  conversation,  but  did  not  seem  to 
be  aware  of  his  near  arrival. 

"No,"  he  said,  finally;  "we  hardly  ever  see  the 
Colonel." 

"But  does  he  not  come  to  Burgsdorf  as  of  old?" 

"No,  he  has  become  very  unsocial.  But  I  hap- 
pened to  see  him  in  Berlin  when  I  went  to  meet 
Uncle  Herbert." 

"And  how  does  he  look?  Has  he  aged  any  dur- 
ing these  last  years  ?" 

Willibald  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"Of  course  he  has  aged ;  you  would  hardly  recog- 
nize him  with  his  white,  hair." 


258  THE    SIGN    OF   FLAME. 

"White  hair!"  Hartmut  burst  forth.  "He  is 
hardly  fifty-two  years  old.  Has  he  been  ill  ?" 

"Not  that  I  know  of.  It  came  quite  suddenly — 
in  a  few  months — at  the  time  when  he  asked  for  his 
discharge." 

Hartmut  blanched,  and  his  eyes  were  strained  fix- 
edly upon  the  speaker. 

"My  father  sought  a  discharge?  He  who  is  a 
soldier  through,  body  and  soul;  to  whom  his  voca- 
tion   In  what  year  was  it  ?" 

"It  did  not  come  to  an  issue,"  said  Willy,  pacify- 
ingly;  "they  did  not  let  him  go,  but  removed  him  to 
a  distant  garrison,  and  he  has  been  in  the  Ministry 
of  War  for  three  years." 

"But  he  wanted  to  leave — in  what  year?"  panted 
Rojanow,  in  a  sinking  voice. 

"Well,  at  the  time  of  your  disappearance.  He 
believed  his  honor  demanded  it,  and,  Hartmut,  you 
ought  not  to  have  done  that  to  your  father  —  not 
that.  He  almost  died  from  it." 

Hartmut  made  no  answer,  no  attempt  to  defend 
himself;  but  his  breast  heaved  in  deep,  unsteady 
breaths. 

"We  will  not  speak  of  it,"  said  Willibald,  stop- 
ping short ;  "it  cannot  be  changed  now.  I  shall  ex- 
pect your  letter  to-morrow.  Get  everything  in 
order.  Good  night." 

Hartmut  did  not  seem  to  hear  the  words — did 
not  notice  the  departure  of  his  friend.  He  stood 
there  immovable,  with  eyes  on  the  floor,  and  only 
after  Willibald  had  long  disappeared  did  he 
straighten  himself  slowly  and  draw  his  hand  across 
his  brow. 

"He  wished  to  leave!"  he  murmured;  "to  leave 
the  army  because  he  thought  his  honor  de- 


THE   SIGN   OF   FLAME.  250 

manded    it.      No — no,    not   yet.      I    must   go    to 
Rodeck." 

The  honored  poet,  upon  whose  brow  Fate  was 
pressing  the  first  laurel  wreath — who  only  yesterday 
had  challenged  the  whole  world  in  this  victorious 
knowledge — dared  not  meet  the  eye  of  his  father. 
He  fled  into  solitude. 


CHAPTER  XXXVI. 

IN  one  of  the  quieter  streets,  whose  modest  but 
pleasant  houses  were  mostly  surrounded  by  gar- 
dens, Marietta  Volkmar  lived  with  an  old  lady — a 
distant  relative  of  her  grandfather — who  was  alone, 
but  willing  and  glad  to  be  protection  and  company 
to  the  young  singer. 

The  two  ladies  led  a  life  about  which  the  ever- 
busy  tongue  of  gossip  could  find  nothing  to  say,  and 
were  much  beloved  by  other  members  of  the  house. 
Fraulein  Marietta,  with  her  pleasant,  happy  face, 
was  an  especial  favorite,  and  when  her  clear  voice 
rang  through  the  house  everybody  stopped  to  listen. 
But  the  singvogelchen  had  grown  mute  in  the  past 
two  days,  and  showed  pale  cheeks  and  eyes  red  from 
weeping.  The  people  shook  their  heads  and  could 
not  understand  it  until  they  heard  from  old  Frau- 
lein Berger  that  Dr.  Volkmar  was  sick,  and  his 
granddaughter  was  worried  about  him,  but  could 
not  obtain  leave  of  absence  without  a  more  forcible 
reason. 

This  was,  indeed,  no  falsehood,  for  the  old  doc- 
tor had  really  been  suffering  for  several  days  from 
a  severe  cold,  but  it  offered  no  occasion  for  serious 
concern.  It  was  only  a  plausible  explanation  of 
Marietta's  changed  demeanor,  which  was  noticed 
even  by  her  colleagues  at  the  theatre. 

The  singer  was  standing  at  the  window,  gazing 
steadily  out,  in  her  plain  but  cosily  furnished  sit- 

260 


THE    SIGN   OF   FLAME.  261 

ting  room,  having  just  returned  from  a  rehearsal, 
while  Fraulein  Berger  sat  at  a  little  table  with  her 
needlework,  casting  anxious  glances  at  her  protegee. 

"But,  dear  child,  do  not  take  this  affair  so  sorely 
to  heart,"  she  admonished.  "You  will  wear  your- 
self out  with  this  anxiety  and  excitement.  Why 
anticipate  the  worst  at  once  ?" 

Marietta  did  not  turn.  She  was  painfully  pale, 
and  a  suppressed  sob  was  in  her  voice  as  she  replied : 

"This  is  now  the  third  day,  and  yet  I  cannot  learn 
anything.  Oh,  it  is  awful  to  have  to  wait  like  this, 
hour  after  hour,  for  bad  news." 

"But  why  must  it  be  bad  news?"  the  old  lady 
spoke  consolingly.  "Herr  von  Eschenhagen  was 
still  well  and  bright  yesterday  afternoon.  I  in- 
quired about  him  at  your  special  request.  He  went 
to  drive  with  Herr  and  Frau  von  Wallmoden.  The 
affair  has  probably  been  settled  amicably." 

"I  should  have  heard  of  it,"  said  the  young  girl, 
in  a  heartbroken  way.  "He  promised  me,  and  he 
would  have  kept  his  word,  I  know.  If  misfortune 
has  really  happened  to  him — if  he  has  fallen — I  be- 
lieve I  could  not  live !" 

The  last  words  were  spoken  so  passionately  that 
Fraulein  Berger  looked  at  the  speaker  in  dismay. 

"Do  be  reasonable,  Marietta,"  she  entreated. 
"How  are  you  responsible  for  an  impertinent  man 
insulting  you,  or  the  betrothed  of  your  friend  step- 
ping in  to  your  rescue?  You  really  could  not  act 
more  despairingly  if  your  own  betrothed  stood  be- 
fore the  pistol." 

The  cheeks,  just  now  so  pale,  flushed  redly,  and 
Marietta  turned  to  the  window  with  a  quick  gesture. 

"You  do  not  understand,  auntie,"  she  said,  in  a 
low  voice;  "you  do  not  know  how  much  love  and 


262  THE   SIGX   OF   FLAME. 

kindness  have  been  shown  me  in  the  house  of  the 
Chief  Forester — how  earnestly  Toni  begged  my 
forgiveness  when  she  learned  how  deeply  her  future 
mother-in-law  had  offended  me.  What  will  she 
think  of  me  when  she  hears  that  her  betrothed  has 
been  in  a  duel  for  my  sake?  What  will  Frau  von 
Eschenhagen  say?" 

"Well,  they  will  at  least  be  open  to  the  convic- 
tion that  you  are  quite  innocent  in  this  affair,  which, 
if  it  ends  well,  they  will  not  hear  of.  I  do  not 
recognize  or  understand  you  in  all  this.  You  used 
to  laugh  away  every  care  and  anxiety,  but  this  time 
you  exaggerate  it  in  a  really  incomprehensible  man- 
ner. You  have  scarcely  eaten  or  drunk  in  two 
days  in  your  excitement;  you  must  not  sit  at  my 
table  to-day  as  you  did  yesterday  and  the  day  be- 
fore. I  tell  you  that ;  and  now  I  will  look  after  the 
dinner." 

The  kind  old  lady  arose  and  left  the  room  to  pre- 
pare some  extra  dainty  with  which  to  tempt  her  pro- 
tegee's fleeting  appetite. 

She  was  right ;  the  merry,  bright  Marietta  would 
not  now  be  recognized.  Beyond  a  doubt  it  gave  a 
painful,  depressed  feeling  to  be  brought  before  the 
people  of  Furstenstein  in  so  bad  a  light  through 
that  occurrence  in  the  park,  and  even  here  in  town 
her  name,  so  carefully  protected,  might  suffer  if 
something  of  it  should  be  heard ;  but,  strange  to  say, 
these  possibilities  remained  in  the  background  be- 
cause of  a  fear  which  grew  with  every  hour  and  was> 
hardly  to  be  borne  any  longer. 

"With  my  blood,  if  it  must  be." 

Unconsciously  she  whispered  Willibald's  last 
words,  and  pressed  her  hot  brow  against  the  win- 
dow pane.  "Oh,  my  God,  not  that !" 


THE    SIGN   OF   FLAME.  263 

Suddenly  at  the  street  corner  a  figure  appeared, 
which  attracted  attention  on  account  of  its  unusual 
size.  He  came  nearer  with  rapid  steps  and  looked 
searchingly  at  the  house  numbers. 

With  a  suppressed  cry  of  joy,  Marietta  sprang 
from  the  window.  She  had  recognized  Herr  von 
Eschenhagen.  She  did  not  wait  until  he  pulled  the 
bell,  but  hastened  to  open  the  door.  Tears  shim- 
mered yet  in  her  eyes,  but  her  voice  was  jubilant  as 
she  cried:  "You  come  at  last!  God  be  praised!" 

"Yes,  here  I  am,  well  and  whole,"  assured  Willi- 
bald,  whose  face  lighted  up  at  his  reception. 

Neither  knew  how  they  reached  the  sitting  room. 
To  the  young  man  it  seemed  as  if  a  small,  soft  hand 
had  been  laid  upon  his  arm  and  had  drawn  him 
along,  all  unresisting.  But  when  they  stood  before 
each  other,  Marietta  noticed  that  a  broad,  black 
bandage  was  around  his  right  hand. 

"Mon  Dieu,  you  are  injured!"  she  cried  in  fear. 

"A  slight  scratch — not  worth  mentioning,"  Wil- 
libald  said  merrily,  waving  the  hand.  "I  have 
given  the  Count  a  more  severe  reminder,  but  it  is 
also  only  a  glance  shot  in  the  shoulder,  and  not  in 
the  least  dangerous  to  his  precious  life.  That  man 
could  not  even  shoot  right." 

"Then  you  did  have  the  duel  ?     I  knew  it." 

"This  morning  at  8  o'clock.  But  you  need  fear 
nothing  more,  mein  Fraulein.  You  see  everything 
has  passed  off  well." 

The  young  singer  drew  a  deep  breath,  as  if  re- 
lieved of  a  mountain  load. 

"I  thank  you,  Herr  von  Eschenhagen.  No— no, 
do  not  refuse  my  thanks.  You  have  endangered 
your  life  for  my  sake.  I  thank  you  a  thousand 
times." 


264  THE    SIGN   OF   FLAME. 

"There  is  no  cause,  Fraulein;  I  did  it  gladly," 
said  Willibald,  cordially.  "But,  since  I  have  stood 
before  the  pistol  now  for  your  sake,  you  must  permit 
me  to  bring  you  a  little  token  of  remembrance.  You 
will  not  throw  it  at  my  feet  again?" 

He  somewhat  awkwardly — because  of  his  left 
hand — drew  out  from  his  pocket  a  white  tissue 
paper,  and,  opening  it,  disclosed  a  full-blown  rose 
with  two  buds. 

Marietta  dropped  her  eyes  in  confusion.  Mutely 
she  accepted  the  flowers  and  fastened  one  of  them 
at  her  throat.  Then  she  stretched  out  her  hand  to 
the  giver  just  as  mutely. 

He  fully  understood  the  apology. 

"Of  course  you  are  accustomed  to  different  floral 
offerings,"  he  said,  apologetically.  "I  hear  a  great 
deal  of  the  homage  people  pay  you." 

The  young  girl  smiled,  but  with  a  more  pathetic 
than  happy  expression. 

"You  have  been  a  witness  to  what  this  homage  is 
at  times,  and  it  was  not  the  first  time  it  has  hap- 
pened. The  gentlemen  seem  to  think  they  are  per- 
mitted to  venture  anything  when  one  is  on  the  stage. 
Believe  me,  Herr  von  Eschenhagen,  it  is  often  hard 
to  bear  this  lot,  for  which  I  am  envied  by  so  many." 

Willibald  listened  intently  to  these  words. 

"Hard  to  bear  ?  I  thought  you  loved  your  voca- 
tion above  everything,  and  would  not  leave  it  at  any 
price." 

"Oh,  surely  I  love  it ;  but  I  had  not  thought  that 
so  much  bitterness  and  hardship  were  connected 
with  it.  My  teacher,  Professor  Marani,  says :  'One 
must  rise  as  on  eagle's  wings;  then  all  the  low  and 
vulgar  will  remain  far  below.'  He  may  be  right, 
but  one  must  be  an  eagle  for  that,  and  I  am  only  a 


THE    SIGN    OF   FLAME.  265 

'singvogelchen,'  as  my  grandfather  calls  me,  which 
has  nothing  but  its  voice  and  cannot  rise  so  high. 
The  critics  often  tell  me  that  fire  and  strength  are 
wanting  in  my  rendering.  I  feel  myself  that  I  have 
no  real  dramatic  talent.  I  can  only  sing,  and  would 
rather  do  that  at  home  in  our  green  forests  than 
here  in  this  golden  cage." 

The  voice  of  the  usually  bright,  cheery  girl 
sounded  full  of  deeply  suppressed  emotion.  This 
last  occurrence  had  shown  her  again  very  plainly 
her  unprotected  position,  and  now  her  heart  opened 
to  the  man  who  had  interfered  so  bravely  for  her. 

He  listened  in  rapt  attention  and  seemed  to  read 
the  words  from  her  lips,  but  at  this  truly  sad  report 
his  face  beamed  as  if  something  very  joyful  was 
being  related,  and  now  he  interrupted  vehemently: 

"You  long  to  get  away  from  here?  You  would 
like  to  leave  the  stage?" 

Marietta  laughed  aloud,  in  spite  of  her  sorrow. 

"No,  I  really  do  not  think  of  that,  for  what  should 
I  do  then  ?  My  grandfather  saved  and  economized 
for  years  to  make  my  education  as  a  singer  possible, 
and  it  would  be  poor  gratitude  if  I  should  be  a  bur- 
den to  him  in  his  old  age.  He  does  not  know  that 
at  times  his  little  singvogel  longs  for  its  nest,  or  that 
life  is  made  hard  for  her  here.  I  am  not  usually 
without  courage.  I  persevere  and  stand  strong 
whenever  it  must  be  so.  Do  not  let  these,  my  la- 
ments, be  heard  at  Furstenstein.  You  are  going 
there?" 

A  shadow  passed  over  the  beaming  face  of  young 
Eschenhagen,  and  he  was  the  one  now  to  lower  his 
eyes. 

"I,  indeed,  go  to  Furstenstein  this  afternoon,"  he 
replied,  in  a  strangely  suppressed  tone. 


266  THE    SIGN   OF   FLAME. 

"Oh,  I  ask  this  one  thing  more.  You  must  tell 
your  betrothed  everything : —  you  hear  ?  —  every- 
thing. We  owe  it  to  her.  I  shall  write  her  to-day 
about  the  occurrence,  and  you  will  confirm  my  letter 
with  your  words — yes?" 

Willibald  raised  his  eyes  slowly  and  looked  at  the 
speaker.  "You  are  right,  Fraulein.  Toni  must 
hear  everything — the  whole  truth.  I  had  already 
decided  on  that  before  I  came  here;  but  it  will  be  a 
hard  hour  for  me." 

"Oh,  surely  not,"  said  Marietta,  encouragingly. 
"Toni  is  good  and  full  of  trust.  She  will  believe 
your  word  and  my  word,  that  we  are  both  innocent 
in  this  affair." 

"But  I  am  not  without  guilt — at  least  toward  my 
bride-elect,"  declared  Willibald,  earnestly.  "Do 
not  look  at  me  in  such  affright.  You  must  hear  it 
later,  anyway,  and  it  is  perhaps  better  that  I  tell  you 
myself.  I  am  going  to  Furstenstein  only  to  ask 
Toni" — he  stopped  short  and  drew  a  deep  breath — 
"to  give  me  back  my  troth." 

"For  heaven's  sake,  why?"  cried  the  young  girl, 
horrified  at  this  explanation. 

"Why?  Because  it  would  be  wrong  should  I 
offer  Toni  my  hand  and  stand  with  her  at  the  altar, 
with  my  heart  as  it  is  now.  Because  only  now  do 
I  see  what  the  principal  thing  is  for  betrothal  and 

marriage — because "  He  did  not  finish,  but 

his  eyes  spoke  so  plainly  that  Marietta  fully  under- 
stood the  rest. 

Her  face  suddenly  colored  crimson.  She  drew 
back  and  made  a  violently  repellent  gesture. 

"Herr  von  Eschenhagen,  be  silent;  do  not  speak 
another  word." 

"But  it  is  not  my  fault,"  Willibald  continued,  in 


THE    SIGN    OF   FLAME.  267 

spite  of  the  command.  "I  have  struggled  manfully 
and  tried  truly  to  keep  my  promise  during  the 
whole  time  I  was  at  Burgsdorf.  I  believed  it  would 
be  possible ;  but  then  I  came  here  and  saw  you  again 
in  'Arivana'  on  that  evening,  and  knew  that  the 
struggle  had  been  in  vain.  I  had  not  forgotten  you, 
Fraulein  Marietta — not  for  an  hour — as  often  as  I 
had  tried  to  make  myself  believe  it,  and  I  shall  not 
forget  you  all  my  life  long.  I  shall  confess  this  to 
Toni  openly,  and  shall  also  tell  my  mother  when  I 
return  to  her." 

The  confession  was  made.  The  young  lord,  who 
could  not  manage  the  first  proposal  at  Furstenstein 
alone,  but  had  to  be  helped  by  his  mother,  now 
spoke  as  warmly  and  heartily — as  openly  and  as 
truly — as  a  man  must  speak  in  such  an  hour.  He 
had  learned  it  suddenly,  and  with  the  helplessness 
which  he  shook  off  with  such  decision,  there  seemed 
to  fall  off,  too,  all  his  awkwardness  and  ridiculous 
manner. 

He  quickly  approached  Marietta,  who  had  fled  to 
the  window,  and  his  firm  voice  grew  unsteady  as  he 
continued :  "And  now  one  question.  You  looked  so 
pale  when  you  opened  the  door  for  me,  and  your 
eyes  spoke  of  tears.  The  affair  may  have  been  pain- 
ful and  mortifying  to  you;  I  can  understand  that, 
but — did  you  also  fear  a  little  for  my  welfare?" 

No  answer,  but  low  sobs. 

"Did  you  fear  for  me  ?  Only  a  little  'yes,'  Mari- 
etta. You  have  no  idea  how  happy  you  would 
make  me." 

He  bent  low  over  the  young  girl,  who  now  slowly 
raised  the  small,  bowed  head.  In  her  dark  eyes 
there  glowed  a  spark  as  of  secret  happiness.  The 
answer  was  ajrnost  inaudible. 


268  THE    SIGN   OF   FLAME. 

"I?  Ach,  I  have  almost  died  of  fear  these  last 
two  days." 

Willibald  gave  a  joyful  exclamation  and  drew 
her  to  his  breast;  but  only  for  a  moment,  then  she 
struggled  from  his  embrace. 

"No — not  now.     Go  now,  please." 

He  released  her  at  once  and  stepped  back. 

"You  are  right,  Marietta;  not  yet.  But,  after  I 
have  freed  myself,  I  shall  come  again  and  ask  for 
another  'yes.'  Farewell." 

He  hastened  away  before  Marietta  had  scarce  re- 
covered control  of  herself.  She  was  aroused  by  the 
voice  of  Fraulein  Berger,  who,  unnoticed  by  the 
two,  had  stood  upon  the  threshold  of  the  adjoining 
room  for  several  moments,  and  who  now  ap- 
proached in  a  state  of  horror. 

"Child,  for  mercy's  sake,  what  does  it  mean? 
Do  you  not  consider " 

The  young  girl  did  not  let  her  finish,  but  threw 
both  arms  around  her  neck  and  wept  passionately. 

"Ah,  now  I  know  why  I  was  so  enraged  at  the 
time  he  suffered  his  mother  to  insult  me.  It  hurt 
me  so  inexpressibly  to  believe  him  a  coward ;  I  have 
loved  him  from  the  first." 


CHAPTER  XXXVII. 

IN  the  house  of  the  Prussian  Ambassador  every- 
thing was  in  a  state  of  preparation  for  the  winter 
festivities.  When  Wallmoden  had  entered  his 
present  position,  in  the  spring,  society  was  already 
scattered  in  all  directions  for  the  summer,  and  im- 
mediately afterward  occurred  the  sad  event  which 
had  put  an  end  to  all  festivities  for  them.  These 
causes,  however,  were  done  with  now. 

The  many  halls  and  apartments  of  the  Ambas- 
sador's palace  had  been  furnished  with  such  splen- 
dor as  Herbert's  circumstances,  made  brilliant  by 
his  marriage,  permitted ;  and  it  was  his  intention  to 
have  as  magnificent  a  home  as  was  possible  to  ob- 
tain. Their  first  grand  reception  was  to  take  place 
next  week,  and  in  the  meantime  numerous  calls  were 
being  made  and  returned. 

The  Ambassador  was  also  much  occupied  with 
his  official  duties,  and,  besides,  there  was  one  thing 
which  ruined  his  peace  of  mind  completely — the  suc- 
cess of  Arivana.  If  he  had  had  doubts  before  about 
opposing  Rojanow's  publicity,  it  had  now  become 
quite  impossible.  The  "adventurer"  was  raised 
upon  the  shield  and  his  poetical  spirit  was  being 
praised  everywhere.  The  Court  and  society  gener- 
ally could  not  be  forced  now  to  drop  him  without 
subjecting  themselves  to  mortification,  and  it  was 
questionable,  besides,  if  they  would  drop  him  at  all, 
since  only  hints  and  vague  remarks  could  be  given. 


270  THE    SIGN   OF   FLAME. 

That  grand  success  had  made  Hartmut  almost  un- 
approachable. 

To  add  to  the  embarrassment  of  the  Ambassa- 
dor's position,  Falkenried's  arrival  was  expected  in 
the  near  future,  from  whom  the  truth  could  not  be 
kept,  for  fear  he  should  hear  it  from  outsiders. 

The  Colonel,  of  whose  present  trip  nothing  was 
known  when  Wallmoden  had  seen  him  in  Berlin  a 
short  time  ago,  would  be  here  in  a  few  days  and 
would  make  his  headquarters  at  the  Ambassador's 
palace,  since  he  was  no  stranger  to  Adelaide.  She 
and  her  brother  had,  in  a  measure,  grown  up  under 
his  eyes. 

When,  ten  years  ago,  the  then  Major  Falkenried 
had  been  removed  to  the  distant  province,  he  had 
been  stationed  at  a  post  in  the  small  town  lying  in 
the  immediate  vicinity  of  the  great  Stahlberg  works 
and  dependent  almost  entirely  upon  them.  The 
new  Major  was  considered  an  excellent  soldier,  but 
a  pronounced  man-hater,  who  enjoyed  his  duties 
only,  occupying  all  his  spare  time  with  military 
studies,  and  who  hated  everything  that  came  under 
the  head  of  society. 

As  he  was  alone,  he  was  excused  from  keeping  an 
open  house,  and  he  exhibited  himself  only  at  houses 
where  his  position  imperatively  demanded  it.  Such 
consideration  had  to  be  shown  the  great  manufac- 
turer, who  was  the  leader  of  the  whole  vicinity,  and 
who  received  and  entertained  as  guests  the  first  and 
highest  personages. 

Stahlberg  had  been  the  only  one  whom  the  mili- 
tary man  approached.  Although  the  grave  and 
gloomy  reticence  of  the  Major  excluded  real  friend- 
ship, yet  the  two  men  felt  the  highest  esteem  for 
each  other,  and  the.  Stahlberg  home  was  the  only 


THE    SIGN   OF    FLAME.  271 

place  where  Falkenried  appeared  occasionally  of  his 
own  free  will. 

He  had  had  intercourse  there  for  years  and  seen 
the  two  children  grow  up.  Therefore  Wallmoden 
was  the  more  offended  that  Falkenried  did  not  at- 
tend his  wedding,  but  excused  himself  through  pres- 
sure of  official  duties. 

Adelaide  knew  little  or  nothing  about  the  life  of 
the  Colonel.  She  considered  him  childless  and 
heard  only  from  her  husband  that  he  had  been  mar- 
ried early  in  life,  but  had  been  separated  from  his 
wife  and  was  now  a  widower. 

It  was  about  a  week  after  the  return  of  the  Wall- 
modens  that  Falkenried's  arrival  was  announced  to 
the  young  wife  as  she  sat  one  day  at  her  writing 
table.  She  threw  aside  her  pen,  arose  quickly  and 
hastened  to  her  friend. 

"You  are  heartily  welcome,  Colonel  Falkenried. 
We  received  your  telegram,  and  Herbert  intended 
to  meet  you  at  the  depot,  but  just  at  this  hour  he  has 
an  audience  with  the  Duke,  and  is  still  at  the  palace, 
so  we  could  only  send  the  carriage." 

Her  greeting  had  all  the  cordiality  which  an  old 
friend  of  her  father's  could  wish,  but  Falkenried's 
response  was  not  of  a  like  kind.  Coldly  and  seri- 
ously he  accepted  the  offered  hand  and  the  invita- 
tion to  be  seated,  as  he  thanked  her  for  her  welcome. 

The  Colonel  had  indeed  changed,  so  much  as 
scarcely  to  be  recognized.  Were  it  not  for  the  tall, 
muscular  form  and  strong,  firm  carriage,  one  could 
have  taken  him  for  an  old  man.  His  hair — the  hair 
of  a  man  barely  fifty  years  old — was  white  as  snow, 
the  brow  furrowed  deeply,  and  sharp  lines  were 
buried  in  the  face,  making  it  look  ten  years  older. 
The  features,  once  so  expressive,  appeared  fixed  and 


272  THE    SIGN    OP   FLAME. 

immovable  now;  the  entire  appearance  and  bearing 
bespoke  stern,  impenetrable  reticence. 

Regine's  words,  "The  man  is  turned  to  stone," 
were  only  too  true.  One  involuntarily  gained  the 
impression  that  he  had  become  a  total  stranger  to 
the  world,  and  that  all  mankind  had  died  off  for 
aught  that  moved  him — nothing  was  left  except  the 
duties  of  his  vocation. 

"Perhaps  I  have  disturbed  you,  Ada,"  he  said, 
using  her  old  home  name  as  he  glanced  at  the  writ- 
ing table  where  lay  a  half-finished  letter. 

"There  is  plenty  of  time  for  that,"  replied  the 
young  wife,  lightly.  "I  was  only  writing  to 
Eugene." 

"Ah  ?  I  am  the  bearer  of  love  from  your  brother. 
I  saw  him  the  day  before  yesterday." 

"I  knew  that  he  intended  going  to  Berlin  and  to 
see  you.  He  has  not  seen  you  for  nearly  two  years 
now,  and  I,  too,  saw  but  little  of  you  during  our 
journey  through  Berlin.  We  hoped  you  would 
come  to  Burgsdorf,  where  we  stayed  for  a  few  days, 
and  I  believe  that  Regine  felt  very  hurt  that  you  did 
not  accept  her  invitation  for  this  time,  either." 

The  Colonel  looked  to  the  floor ;  he  knew  why  he 
avoided  Burgsdorf  and  its  reminiscences.  He  had 
hardly  been  there  twice  since  his  return  to  the 
Capital. 

"Regine  knows  how  economical  I  have  to  be  with 
my  time,"  he  replied,  evasively.  "But,  to  return  to 
your  brother,  Ada;  I  should  like  to  speak  to  you, 
and  therefore  I  am  glad  to  find  you  alone.  What  is 
the  difficulty  between  Eugene  and  his  brother- 
in-law?  Has  something  happened  to  alienate 
them?" 

A  certain  embarrassment  was  visible  in  Ade- 


THE    SIGN    OF   FLAME.  273 

laide's  face  at  the  question,  but  she  answered 
lightly : 

"Nothing  especial;  the  two  are  not  very  con- 
genial." 

"Not  very  congenial?  Wallmoden  is  nearly 
forty  years  his  senior,  and  his  guardian  besides. 
Your  brother  will  not  be  of  age  for  several  years. 
In  such  case  the  younger  one  must  submit  uncon- 
ditionally." 

"Certainly;  but  Eugene,  although  as  good  as 
gold,  is  only  too  often  rash  and  passionate  as  he  has 
always  been." 

"Alas,  so  he  is.  He  will  have  to  change  consid- 
erably if  he  wishes  to  fill,  half  as  well  as  his  father 
did,  the  important  and  responsible  position  which 
awaits  him.  But  something  else  seems  to  be  the 
trouble  here.  I  made  a  casual  remark  about  your 
marriage,  Ada — which  event,  to  tell  the  truth,  sur- 
prised me,  although  I  am  on  friendly  terms  with 
your  husband — and  said  that  I  had  not  thought  you 
had  so  much  ambition ;  but  at  this  Eugene  burst  out 
and  defended  you  in  the  most  passionate  manner, 
and  spoke  of  a  sacrifice  which  his  sister  had  made 
for  him.  In  short,  he  allowed  himself  to  be  carried 
away  into  words  and  hints  which  surprised  me  in 
the  highest  degree." 

"You  should  not  have  paid  any  attention  to  it," 
said  Adelaide,  with  visible  emotion.  "A  young, 
hot  head  takes  everything  tragically.  What  did  he 
tell  you?" 

"In  fact,  nothing  definite.  He  seems  to  have 
given  you  his  word  to  keep  silent  and  not  speak 
without  your  permission ;  but  he  seems  to  almost 
hate  his  brother-in-law.  What  does  all  this 
mean?" 


274  THE    SIGN   OF   FLAME. 

The  young  wife  was  silent;  the  conversation 
seemed  painful  to  her  in  the  highest  degree. 

Falkenried  looked  at  her  searchingly  as  he  con- 
tinued :  "You  know  it  is  not  my  way  to  inquire  into 
the  secrets  of  others.  I  take  but  little  interest  in 
the  doings  of  people  around  me,  but  my  friend's 
honor  comes  into  consideration  here ;  those  remarks 
contain  a  crimination.  Of  course,  I  could  not  allow 
that,  but  when  I  remonstrated  with  your  brother 
and  threatened  to  speak  to  Wallmoden  about  it,  he 
said:  'My  Herr  brother-in-law  will  explain  the 
affair  diplomatically  to  you.  He  has  proved  a  very 
diplomat  in  it  all.  Ask  Ada  if  you  wish  to  learn 
the  truth/  I  ask  you  first,  therefore;  but  if  you 
cannot  and  will  not  answer,  then  I  must  speak  to 
your  husband,  from  whom  I  cannot  keep  such  re- 
marks." 

He  spoke  in  a  cold  and  measured  tone,  without 
any  excitement.  The  affair,  apparently,  caused  him 
no  interest  whatever.  He  considered  it  necessary 
to  take  it  up  solely  because  a  point  of  honor  came 
in  question. 

"Do  not  speak  to  Herbert  about  it,  I  beg  of  you," 
interrupted  Adelaide,  quickly.  "I  shall  have  to  ex- 
plain to  you,  since  Eugene  allowed  himself  to  be 
carried  away  so  far ;  but  he  has  taken  the  matter  too 
hard  from  the  beginning.  There  is  nothing  dis- 
honorable about  it." 

"I  hope  so,  since  Wallmoden  is  concerned,"  said 
the  Colonel,  with  emphasis. 


CHAPTER  XXXVIII. 

THE  young  Baroness  lowered  her  voice  and 
evaded  the  eyes  of  her  listener  as  she  commenced. 

"You  know  that  my  engagement  happened  a  year 
ago  at  Florence.  My  father  was  even  then  very 
ailing,  and  the  physicians  desired  that  he  should  re- 
main in  Italy  during  the  winter.  We  went  to  Flor- 
ence, intending  to  stay  two  months,  and  then  make 
further  plans  according  to  the  wish  of  the  invalid. 
My  brother  had  accompanied  us,  but  was  to  return 
home  at  the  beginning  of  winter. 

We  took  a  villa  outside  the  city,  and,  of  course, 
lived  quite  secluded.  Eugene  saw  Italy  for  the  first 
time,  and  it  was  so  mournful  for  him  to  sit  day  after 
day  in  the  lonely  sick  room,  that  I  seconded  his  re- 
quest to  go  to  Rome  for  a  short  time.  He  finally 
received  permission.  Oh,  if  I  had  never  done  it! 
But  I  could  not  know  how  deeply  his  inexperience 
would  involve  him  then." 

"That  means  that  he  followed  up  adventures,  al- 
though his  father  was  at  death's  door." 

"Do  not .  judge  so  harshly.  My  brother  was 
scarcely  twenty  years  old  then,  and  had  always  lived 
under  the  eyes  of  a  loving  but  very  strict  father. 
The  short  freedom  proved  dangerous  to  him.  The 
young  German,  who  had  no  knowledge  of  the  world 
whatever,  was  enticed  into  circles  where  high — and 
as  it  was  afterward  proved — false  gambling  was  the 
order  of  the  day,  and  where  a  number  of  bad,  but 

275 


276  THE    SIGN   OF   FLAME. 

outwardly  charming,  elements  met.  Eugene,  in  his 
ignorance,  did  not  understand  it,  and  lost  heavily, 
until  suddenly  the  party  was  raided  by  the  police. 
The  Italians  defended  themselves,  and  it  ended  in  a 
fight,  into  which  Eugene,  too,  was  drawn.  He  only 
defended  himself,  but  he  had  the  misfortune  to  in- 
jure a  policeman  severely,  and  was  arrested  with 
the  others." 

The  Colonel  had  listened  silently,  with  impassive 
face,  and  his  voice  was  as  harsh  as  before  as  he  said : 
"And  Stahlberg  had  to  live  to  see  this  of  his  son, 
who  had  been  a  model  until  then  ?" 

"He  never  heard  of  it ;  it  was  only  a  momentary 
losing  of  one's  self — a  case  of  one  misled,  rather 
than  guilty,  and  it  will  not  happen  again.  Eugene 
has  given  me  his  word  of  honor  for  that." 

Falkenried  laughed  so  scornfully  that  his  com- 
panion looked  at  him  in  consternation. 

"His  word  of  honor!  Yes,  why  not?  That  is 
given  as  easily  as  it  is  broken.  Are  you  truly  so 
trusting  as  to  believe  in  the  word  of  such  a  young 
lad?" 

"Yes,  that  I  am,"  asserted  Adelaide,  in  an  injured 
tone,  while  her  eyes,  earnest  and  reproachful,  met 
the  gaze  of  the  man  whose  awful  bitterness  she 
could  not  explain.  "I  know  my  brother.  In  spite 
of  this  escapade,  he  is  the  son  of  his  father,  and  he 
will  keep  his  word  to  me  and  to  himself  —  I 
know  it." 

"It  is  well  for  you  if  you  can  still  believe  and 
trust.  I  have  long  forgotten  how,"  said  Falken- 
ried, in  a  low  but  milder  tone.  "And  what  hap- 
pened then?" 

"My  brother  succeeded  in  being  allowed  to  send 
rne  word  immediately.  'Keep  it  from  father,  it 


THE   SIGX   OF   FLAM& 

would  be  his  death,'  he  wrote.  I  knew  better  than 
he  did  that  our  desperately  ill  father  could  not  stand 
such  news.  But  we  were  alone  in  a  foreign  coun- 
try, without  friends  or  acquaintances,  and  help  had 
to  be  had  instantly.  In  this  extremity  I  thought  of 
Herr  von  Wallmoden,  who  at  the  time  was  at  the 
embassy  at  Florence.  We  had  known  him  slightly 
before,  and  he  had  called  directly  after  our  arrival 
and  placed  himself  at  our  command,  should  we  need 
the  help  of  the  Ambassador.  He  had  come  to  our 
house  frequently,  and  now  hastened  to  me  imme- 
diately upon  receiving  my  request.  I  told  him  all, 
and  trusted  him,  beseeching  his  advice  and  help — 
and  received  it." 

"At  what  price?"  demanded  the  Colonel,  with 
darkly  contracted  brows. 

Adelaide  shook  her  head. 

"No,  no ;  it  is  not  'as  you  think — as  Eugene  also 
believed.  I  was  not  forced.  Herbert  gave  me  free 
choice,  although  he  did  not  hide  from  me  that  the 
occurrence  was  much  worse  than  I  feared;  that 
those  sums  lost  in  play  must,  nevertheless,  be  paid 
if  one  wished  to  keep  the  affair  from  publicity;  that, 
in  spite  of  all,  it  might  get  into  the  courts,  on  ac- 
count of  the  injury  to  the  policeman.  He  explained 
to  me  that  he  might  be  brought  into  a  wrong  light 
if  he  mixed  himself  up  in  such  affairs.  'You  desire 
me  to  save  your  brother/  said  he ;  'perhaps  I  can  do 
it,  but  I  jeopardize  my  position — my  whole  future 
thereby.  One  makes  such  a  sacrifice,  perhaps,  only 
for  his  own  brother,  or — his  brother-in-law.' ' 

Falkenried  arose  suddenly  and  took  a  turn 
through  the  room.  Then  he  stood  still  before  the 
young  wife  and  said,  in  angry  tones :  "And  you,  of 
course,  believed  that  in  your  anxiety?" 


278  THE   SIGN   OF   FLAME. 

''Do  you  mean  that  it  was  not  so?"  asked  Ade- 
laide, startled. 

He  shrugged  his  shoulders  with  a  half-contemp- 
tuous expression. 

"Possibly.  I  do  not  know  these  diplomatic  rea- 
sons. I  know  only  one  thing;  Wallmoden  has,  in- 
deed, proved  himself  a  great  diplomat  in  the  whole 
affair.  What  did  you  answer  him  ?" 

"I  asked  for  time  to  think,  everything  had  burst 
so  upon  me.  But  I  knew,  that  no  moment  was  to  be 
lost,  and  that  same  evening  I  gave  Herbert  the  right 
to  act — for  his  brother-in-law." 

"Of  course,"  muttered  the  Colonel,  with  deep  dis- 
dain; "the  wise,  shrewd  Herbert!" 

"He  obtained  leave  of  absence  immediately,  and 
went  to  Rome,"  continued  the  young  Baroness,  "re- 
turning in  a  week,  accompanied  by  my  brother.  He 
had  succeeded  in  freeing  Eugene  and  withdrawing 
him  from  the  whole  affair.  Even  the  newspapers 
did  not  mention  the  name  of  the  young  German  who 
had  been  involved  in  it.  I  do  not  know  by  what 
means  it  was  done.  If  one  has  powerful  friends 
and  does  not  need  to  spare  money,  much  is  possible. 
Herbert  had  spent  money  lavishly  on  all  sides  and 
had  brought  into  use  every  advantage  made  pos- 
sible to  him  through  his  long  years  of  diplomatic 
work.  He  also  cancelled  the  gambling  debts,  al- 
though with  his  own  bond.  He  told  me  later  that 
he  had  given  half  his  fortune  for  that  purpose." 

"It  was  very  magnanimous,  since  by  this  sacrifice 
he  won  a  cool  million.  And  what  did  Eugene  say 
to  this — trade?" 

"He  knew  nothing  of  it,  and  soon  returned  to 
Germany,  as  had  been  decided  at  first.  From  that 
time  Herbert  came  to  our  house  daily  and  knew  how 


THE   SIGN   OF   FLAME.  279 

to  prepossess  my  sick  father  so  well,  that  father 
finally  felt  a  desire  for  the  union  himself.  Only 
then  did  Herbert  begin  his  wooing.  I  was  grateful 
to  him  for  giving  it  this  turn,  only  Eugene  was  not 
deceived.  He  guessed  everything,  and  forced  the 
truth  from  me.  Since  then  he  has  tortured  himself 
with  self-reproach  and  almost  feels  hostility  toward 
his  brother-in-law,  in  spite  of  my  repeated  assur- 
ance that  I  have  never  had  cause  to  rue  that  step, 
and  that  I  have  in  Herbert  the  most  attentive  and 
considerate  husband." 

Falkenried's  eyes  rested  intently  upon  the  face  of 
the  young  wife,  as  if  he  wished  to  read  her  most 
secret  thoughts. 

"Are  you  happy  ?"  he  asked,  slowly. 

"I  am  content." 

"That  is  much  in  this  life,"  said  the  Colonel  in 
the  old,  harsh  tone.  "We  were  not  born  to  be 
happy.  I  have  done  you  wrong,  Ada.  I  believed 
the  splendor  of  a  high  position,  the  desire  to  play  a 
first  role  in  society  as  wife  of  the  Ambassador,  had 
made  you  Frau  von  Wallmoden,  but — I  am  glad 
that  t  judged  you  wrongly." 

He  stretched  forth  his  hand.  Some  expression 
was  now  in  the  icy  gaze  and  an  apology  in  the  grasp 
of  the  hand. 

"You  know  everything  now,"  concluded  Ade- 
laide, with  a  deep  breath,  "and  I  beg  that  you  will 
not  touch  upon  the  subject  before  Herbert.  You 
see,  there  was  nothing  dishonorable  in  his  dealings. 
I  repeat  to  you  that  he  used  neither  force  nor  per- 
suasion. I  was  forced  only  by  the  power  of  cir- 
cumstances. I  could  not  expect  that  he  would 
make  such  sacrifices  for  a  stranger." 

"If  a  lady  had  sought  me  in  such  anxiety,  I  would 


280  THE   SIGN   OF   FLAME. 

have  made  the  sacrifices — unconditionally,"  declared 
Falkenried. 

"Yes,  you !  I  would  have  followed  you  also  with 
a  lighter  heart." 

The  avowal  betrayed,  unconsciously,  how  hard 
had  been  the  struggle  which  the  young  wife  had  not 
mentioned  by  a  word.  But  she  spoke  the  truth. 

She  would  much  rather  have  given  herself  to  the 
gloomy,  reticent  man,  with  his  harsh  and  often 
offensive  manner,  if  the  sacrifice  had  to  be  made, 
than  to  the  ever  polite  and  attentive  husband,  who, 
in  the  face  of  her  extremity — had  traded  with  it. 

"You  would  have  had  a  hard  lot  then,  Ada,"  said 
the  Colonel,  with  a  grave  shake  of  the  head.  "I 
am  one  of  the  men  who  cannot  give  or  receive  any- 
thing more  in  this  life.  I  have  finished  with  it  long 
ago.  But  you  are  right ;  it  is  better  to  let  that  sub- 
ject remain  untouched  between  Wallmoden  and  me, 
for  if  I  wished  to  tell  him  my  true  opinion  about  it 
— well,  he  will  always  be  a  diplomat." 

Adelaide  arose,  breaking  off  the  conversation,  and 
tried  to  assume  a  lighter  tone. 

"And  now  let  me  take  you  to  your  rooms  at  last. 
You  must  be  exhausted  by  the  long  trip." 

"No,  a  single  night's  journey  will  not  tire  a  sol- 
dier. Duty  makes  harsher  demands  than  that 
on  us." 

He  drew  himself  up  straight  and  firm ;  one  could 
see  that  his  physical  strength  was  yet  unbroken. 
Those  muscles  and  sinews  seemed  like  steel.  It  was 
the  features  alone  that  bore  the  mark  of  age. 

The  eyes  of  the  Baroness  lingered  upon  them 
thoughtfully,  especially  upon  the  brow  which  was 
so  deeply  and  heavily  furrowed  and  yet  was  formed 
so  high  and  powerful  under  the  white  hair. 


THE   SIGN   OF   FLAME.  281 

It  seemed  to  her  as  if  she  had  seen  that  brow 
somewhere  else,  under  dark  locks;  but  there  could 
not  be  a  sharper  contrast  than  between  this  too  early 
aged,  care-lined  face  and  that  youthful  head  with 
the  foreign,  southern  beauty  and  the  uncanny  light 
in  the  eyes.  Yet  it  had  been  the  same  brow  over 
which  the  lightnings  had  flamed  on  that  lonely  for- 
est height ;  the  same  high,  powerful  curve ;  even  the 
blue  veins  which  were  so  pronounced  at  the  tem- 
ples— a  strange,  incomprehensible  likeness! 


CHAPTER  XXXIX. 

AFTER  some  hours  the  two  friends  were  alone 
together  in  Wallmoden's  study.  The  latter  had 
just  made  the  unavoidable  as  well  as  painful  dis- 
closure. He  had  told  the  Colonel  under  what  cir- 
cumstances Rojanow  was  in  the  city,  and  had  un- 
veiled to  him  uncompromisingly  everything  he 
knew  of  Hartmut's  life  and  that  of  his  mother, 
finally  informing  him  of  her  death. 

He  had  feared  this  hour,  but  the  result  was  quite 
different  from  what  he  had  expected.  Mutely 
Falkenried  leaned  against  the  window  with  folded 
arms  and  listened  to  the  long  explanations,  without 
interrupting  by  a  word  or  gesture.  His  face  re- 
mained cold  and  impassive;  no  quiver,  no  motion 
betrayed  that  he  heard  those  things  which  must 
bring  anguish  to  his  heart.  He  was  now  also  "a 
man  of  stone." 

"I  believed  I  owed  these  explanations  to  you," 
concluded  the  Ambassador  finally.  "If  I  have  kept 
what  I  knew  of  the  fate  of -the  two  from  you  so  long, 
it  was  done  solely  that  you  might  not  be  tortured 
unnecessarily  with  what  was  hard  enough  for  you 
to  overcome.  But  you  had  to  learn  now  what  has 
happened,  and  how  matters  stand  at  present." 

The  Colonel  retained  his  position  and  his  voice 
betrayed  no  mental  excitement  as  he  replied : 

"I  thank  you  for  your  good  will,  but  you  could 
have  spared  yourself  these  explanations.  What  is 
that  adventurer  to  me?" 

282 


THE    SIGN   OF   FLAME.  283 

Wallmoden  looked  up  amazed;  he  had  not  ex- 
pected such  a  response. 

"I  thought  it  necessary  to  prepare  you  for  the 
possibility  of  meeting  him,"  he  returned.  "As  you 
have  heard,  Rojanow  now  plays  an  important  role; 
he  is  celebrated  everywhere.  The  Duke  is  deeply 
wrapped  up  in  him.  You  might  meet  him  at  the 
castle." 

"And  what  then?  I  do  not  know  anybody  by 
the  name  of  Rojanow,  and  he  will  not  dare  to  know 
me.  We  should  pass  each  other  as  strangers." 

The  Ambassador's  gaze  rested  searchingly  upon 
Falkenried's  features  as  if  to  fathom  this  real  cold- 
ness or  incomprehensible  self-command. 

"I  thought  you  would  receive  the  news  of  the 
reappearance  of  your  son  very  differently,"  he  said, 
half  aloud. 

For  the  first  time  he  intentionally  used  this  title ; 
hitherto  he  had  merely  said  Rojanow.  But  now, 
for  the  first  time  also,  an  emotion  was  visible  in  the 
calm  figure  at  the  window.  But  it  was  an  emotion 
of  anger. 

"I  have  no  son — remember  that,  Wallmoden. 
He  died  to  me  that  night  at  Burgsdorf,  and  the  dead 
do  not  rise." 

Wallmoden  was  silent;  the  Colonel  approached 
him  and  laid  his  hand  heavily  upon  his  arm. 

"You  said  just  now  that  it  was  your  duty  to  en- 
lighten the  Duke,  and  that  you  had  not  done  so 
solely  out  of  consideration  for  me.  I  have,  indeed, 
but  one  thing  to  guard  in  the  world — the  honor  of 
my  name — which,  through  that  exposition,  would 
be  at  the  mercy  of  the  world's  raillery  and  scorn. 
Do  what  you  think  you  must  do — I  shall  not  hinder 
you.  But — I  shall  also  do  what  I  have  to  do." 


284  THE    SIGN    OF   FLAME. 

His  voice  sounded  as  cold  as  before,  but  it  con- 
tained something  so  awful  that  the  Ambassador 
started  up  in  affright. 

"Falkenried,  for  heaven's  sake,  what  do  you 
mean?  How  am  I  to  interpret  those  words?" 

"As  you  like.  You  diplomats  define  honor  dif- 
ferently at  times  from  us.  I  am  very  one-sided 
about  it." 

"I  shall  keep  silence  inviolably,  I  pledge  you  my 
word,"  assured  Wallmoden,  who  did  not  under- 
stand the  last  bitter  hint,  for  he  had  no  idea  of  Ade- 
laide's confession.  "I  had  decided  on  that  before 
you  came;  the  name  of  Falkenried  shall  not  be  sac- 
rificed by  me." 

"Enough,  and  now  no  more  of  it.  You  have 
prepared  the  Duke  for  what  I  bring?"  asked  Falk- 
enried, passing  on  to  an  entirely  different  subject 
after  a  short  pause.  "What  has  he  to  say  to  it  ?" 

Here  again  was  the  old  iron,  unbending  will, 
which  put  aside  all  questioning;  but  the  sudden 
change  seemed  to  be  acceptable  to  the  Ambassador. 
He  was,  here  as  well  as  elsewhere,  the  wise  diplomat 
who  dreaded  nothing  so  much  as  public  exposure, 
and  who  would  never  have  thought  of  exposing 
Hartmut,  had  he  not  feared  that  by  a  possible  leak- 
ing out  of  the  truth  later  and  of  his  knowledge  of  it, 
it  might  be  counted  against  him.  Now,  in  the  worst 
case,  he  could  cover  himself  with  the  promise  he  had 
given  the  father.  Even  the  Duke  must  acknowl- 
edge that  he — Wallmoden — had  had  to  spare  his 
friend.  The  shrewd  Herbert  knew  how  to  calcu- 
late here,  too. 

The  stay  of  Colonel  Falkenried  was  only  of  short 
duration,  and  during  the  time  he  had  no  rest. 
Audience  with  the  Duke  —  conferences  with  high 


THE    SIGN   OF   FLAME.  285 

military  dignitaries,  communications  with  his  own 
embassy — all  were  crowded  within  a  few  days. 

Wallmoden  was  hardly  less  occupied,  until  finally 
everything  was  settled.  The  Ambassador,  and 
especially  Colonel  Falkenried,  had  reason  to  be  sat- 
isfied with  the  results,  for  everything  had  been  suc- 
cessful that  was  expected  and  desired  by  their  gov- 
ernment, and  they  could  be  sure  of  the  highest  ap- 
preciation at  home. 

Only  the  most  nearly  connected  circles  knew  that 
something  important  was  going  on,  and  even  in 
these  circles  only  a  few  knew  the  full  importance 
of  the  conferences.  Scarcely  anything  was  noticed 
in  public,  which,  therefore,  occupied  itself  only  the 
more  with  its  present  favorite,  the  poet  of  Ari- 
vana,  whose  incomprehensible  behavior  made  him 
so  much  more  interesting  in  the  Residenz. 

Almost  immediately  after  that  brilliant  triumph 
of  his  work  he  had  withdrawn  from  all  praise  and 
homage,  and  had  gone  into  "forest  solitude,"  as 
Prince  Adelsberg  laughingly  informed  all  question- 
ers. Where  this  solitude  was,  nobody  learned. 
Egon  assured  them  that  he  had  given  his  word  not 
to  betray  the  place  of  his  friend's  seclusion,  for  he 
needed  rest  after  all  his  excitement,  but  would  re- 
turn in  a  few  days.  Nobody  knew  that  Hartmut 
was  at  Rodeck. 

Within  the  week,  one  cold  winter  morning,  the 
carriage  of  Herr  von  Wallmoden  stood  at  his  palace 
door.  It  seemed  to  be  preparing  for  a  long  excur- 
sion, for  servants  were  carrying  furs  and  travelling 
rugs  to  it,  while  upstairs  in  the  room  where  they 
had  just  breakfasted,  the  Ambassador  was  taking 
leave  of  Colonel  Falkenried. 


286  THE    SIGN   OF   FLAME. 

"Until  to-morrow  evening,  auf  iviedersehen,"  he 
was  saying  as  he  shook  hands.  "We  sfcall  be  back 
by  that  time  without  fail,  and  you  will  surely  remain 
a  few  days  longer?" 

"Yes,  since  the  Duke  wishes  it  so  particularly," 
answered  the  Colonel.  "I  have  so  reported  it  to 
Berlin,  and  my  report  left  on  the  same  train  that 
carried  yours." 

"Yes,  I  believe  they  will  be  satisfied  with  these 
reports;  but  it  has  been  a  hot  time.  We  had  no 
rest  all  those  days.  Now,  fortunately,  everything 
is  arranged,  and  I  can  afford  to  absent  myself  for 
twenty-four  hours  to  drive  to  Ostwalden  with  Ade- 
laide." 

"Ostwalden  is  the  name  of  your  new  country 
home?  I  remember  that  you  spoke  of  it  yesterday. 
Where  is  it  situated  ?" 

"About  two  miles  from  Furstenstein.  Schonan 
drew  my  attention  to  it  while  we  were  with  him 
and  I  looked  at  the  place  at  that  time.  It  is  rather 
an  extensive  possession  in  the  famous  Wald,  beau- 
tifully situated,  but  the  price  was  too  high  at  first, 
which  has  delayed  the  settlement.  We  have  but 
now  come  to  a  final  understanding." 

"I  believe  Ada  is  not  quite  satisfied  with  your 
selection.  She  seems  to  have  something  against 
the  vicinity  of  Furstenstein,"  interrupted  Falken- 
ried,  but  the  Ambassador  only  shrugged  his  shoul- 
ders carelessly. 

"A  caprice,  nothing  more.  At  first  Adelaide  was 
quite  delighted  with  Ostwalden,  but  later  she  raised 
all  sorts  of  objections — but  I  cannot  pay  any  atten- 
tion to  that.  I  shall  probably  remain  there  for  con- 
siderable periods,  as  I  no  longer  like  to  travel  far  in 
ithe  summer.  A  country  seat  which  is  only  four 


THE   SIGN   OF   FLAME.  287 

Hours  removed  from  town  is  therefore  of  great  value 
to  me.  The  castle  itself  is  in  rather  a  dilapidated 
condition  at  present,  but  something  can  be  made  of 
it.  With  appropriate  changes  and  additions  it  can 
be  made  a  really  superb  residence,  and  I  intend 
doing  that.  I  shall  therefore  look  it  over  carefully, 
so  that  the  plans  can  be  finished  as  soon  as  pos- 
sible. I  have  not  been  there  as  yet  since  I  bought  it." 

He  made  his  statements  with  much  evident  satis- 
faction over  his  plans.  Herbert  von  Wallmoden, 
who  had  originally  possessed  only  a  limited  fortune, 
and  was  compelled  to  expend  it  with  great  care, 
had  suddenly  found  it  necessary  to  buy  a  sumptuous 
place  in  town,  where  he  lived  only  temporarily,  and 
to  have  a  princely  villa  for  his  summer  residence. 
But  he  did  not  find  it  necessary  to  consider  the 
wishes  of  his  wife,  whose  wealth  made  it  possible  to 
him  to  play  the  great  land-owner. 

Falkenried  may  have  had  such  ideas  while  listen- 
ing, but  he  did  not  speak  of  them.  He  had  turned 
graver  and  stonier,  if  possible,  in  the  last  few  days, 
and  if  he  really  asked  a  question  or  made  a  remark 
during  the  conversation,  one  could  see  it  was  but 
mechanical,  and  because  he  had  to  say  something. 

Only  when  Adelaide  entered,  perfectly  equipped 
for  the  journey,  he  arose  promptly  and  offered  his 
arm  to  lead  her  to  the  carriage.  He  lifted  her  in, 
and  Wallmoden,  who  followed  her,  leaned  once  more 
from  the  carriage  door.  "We  shall  assuredly  re- 
turn to-morrow.  Au  revoir." 

Falkenried  bowed  and  stepped  back;  It  was  in- 
different to  him  whether  he  saw  the  "friend  of  his 
youth  again.  vThis,  too,  had  lost  its  interest;  but 
when  he  ascended  the  steps,  he  murmured  half 
aloud ;  "Poor  A,da,  she  deserved  a  better  fate !" 


CHAPTER  XL. 

IN  the  meanwhile  everything  pursued  its  usual 
course  at  Furstenstein.  Willibald  had  been  there  a 
week.  He  had  arrived  two  days  later  than  had  been 
expected,  but  the  injury  to  his  hand  was  the  cause  of 
that.  According  to  his  explanation  it  had  hap- 
pened through  his  own  carelessness,  and  the  hand 
was  already  rapidly  getting  well. 

The  Chief  Forester  found  that  his  future  son-in- 
law  had  changed  much  for  the  better  during  the 
short  intervening  time  of  his  absence,  and  that  he 
had  become  much  more  earnest  and  decided ;  and  he 
remarked  to  his  daughter  with  the  highest  satisfac- 
tion: "I  believe  that  Willy  is  only  now  commenc- 
ing to  be  human.  One  notices  directly  when  his 
lady  mamma  is  not  standing  commandingly  at  his 
side. 

But  Herr  von  Schonan  did  not  have  much  time 
at  his  disposal  to  notice  the  engaged  couple,  as  he 
was  at  present  overwhelmed  with  official  duties. 
The  Duke  had  ordered  several  changes  in  the  forest 
government  to  be  made  according  to  the  suggestions 
of  the  Chief  Forester,  who  was  now  zealously  occu- 
pied in  executing  all  of  them. 

He  saw  and  heard  daily  that  Antonie  and  Willy 
were  on  the  best  terms,  so  he  left  them  mostly  to 
themselves. 

Meanwhile  in  the  house  of  the  doctor  at  Wald- 
hofen  care  and  anxiety  had  made  their  appearance. 

288 


THE    SIGN    OF    FLAME.  289 

The  sickness  of  the  doctor,  which  at  first  had  given 
no  cause  for  fear,  suddenly  took  a  dangerous  turn, 
which  was  augmented  greatly  by  the  age  of  the  pa- 
tient. He  had  called  persistently  for  his  grand- 
daughter, and  she  had  been  telegraphed  for.  She 
had  at  once  obtained  leave  of  absence — her  role  in 
Arivana  was  filled  by  another — and  she  hastened 
without  delay  to  Waldhofen. 

Antonie  showed  a  touching  fidelity  to  her  friend 
at  this  time.  Day  after  day  found  her  at  the  home 
of  the  Volkmars  to  console  and  cheer  Marietta,  who 
clung  to  her  grandfather  with  her  whole  soul. 

Willibald  seemed  to  be  likewise  necessary  at  these 
consolations,  for  he  accompanied  Toni  regularly, 
and  the  Chief  Forester  thought  it  quite  natural  that 
"the  poor  little  thing"  was  being  consoled  and 
helped  to  the  best  of  their  ability,  more  especially 
as  she  had  suffered  so  unmerited  an  insult  in  his 
house,  for  which  he  could  not  to  this  day  forgive 
his  sister-in-law. 

Finally,  after  three  long,  sorrowful  days  and 
nights,  the  doctor's  strong  constitution  conquered; 
the  danger  was  passed,  and  hopes  of  a  full  recovery 
were  entertained. 

Herr  von  Schonan,  who  was  cordially  attached 
to  the  doctor,  was  heartily  glad  of  it,  and  so  every- 
thing seemed  to  have  come  into  the  best  of  order. 

But  threatening  weather  arose  from  the  north. 
Without  a  word  of  warning  Frau  von  Eschenhagen 
suddenly  appeared  at  Furstenstein.  She  had  not 
taken  time  to  stop  in  town  where  her  brother  lived, 
but  came  directly  from  Burgsdorf,  and  burst  like  a 
hurricane  upon  her  brother-in-law,  who  sat  in  his 
room  very  comfortably  reading  the  paper. 

"All  good  spirits — is  it  you,  Regine?"  he  cried, 


290  THE    SIGN    OF   FLAME. 

amazed.  "This  is  what  I  call  a  surprise;  you  ought 
to  have  sent  us  word." 

"Where  is  Willibald?"  demanded  Regine  in  a 
dangerous  tone,  by  way  of  answer.  "Is  he  at  Fur- 
stenstein  ?" 

"Of  course,  where  else  should  he  be  ?  I  believe  he 
has  announced  his  arrival  here  to  you." 

"Let  him  be  called — immediately." 

"But  what  is  the  matter?"  asked  Schonan,  notic- 
ing now  for  the  first  time  his  sister-in-law's  excite- 
ment. "Is  there  a  fire  at  Burgsdorf,  or  what?  I 
cannot  call  Willy  to  you  this  moment,  for  he  is  at 
AValdhofen " 

"Probably  at  Dr.  Volkmar's — and  she  is  probably 
there,  too." 

"Who  is  'she'?  Toni  has,  of  course,  gone  with 
him.  They  visit  that  poor  little  thing  daily — Mari- 
etta— who  was  quite  despairing  at  first.  I  must 
speak  a  word  with  you  on  this  point,  Regine.  How 
could  you  offend  the  dear  girl  so  deeply,  and  in  my 
house  besides?  I  only  heard  of  it  afterward, 
or " 

A  loud,  angry  laugh  interrupted  him.  Frau  von 
Eschenhagen  had  .thrown  hat  and  cloak  upon  a 
chair  and  now  drew  close  to  her  brother-in-law. 

"Are  you  to  reproach  me  because  I  tried  to  avert 
the  evil  which  you  have  brought  upon  yourself? 
Of  course  you  have  always  been  blind  and  would 
never  listen  to  my  warnings — now  it  is  too  late." 

"I  believe  you  are  not  in  your  right  mind,  Re- 
gine," said  the  Forester,  who  really  did  not  know 
what  to  think  of  it  all.  "Will  you  be  so  kind  as  to 
tell  me  what  you  mean?" 

Regine  drew  forth  a  newspaper  and  handed  it  to 
him,  pointing  with  her  finger  to  a  paragraph. 


THE    SIGff   OF   FLAME.  291 

"Read!" 

Schonan  obeyed,  and  now  his  face  also  grew  red 
in  angry  surprise.  The  article,  which  was  dated 
from  the  South  German  Residenz,  read  as  follows: 

"We  have  just  learned  that  a  duel  with  pistols 
took  place  last  Monday,  very  early  in  the  morning, 
in  a  remote  part  of  our  park.  The  opponents  were 
a  well-known  resident,  Count  W — ,  and  a  young 
North  German  landowner,  W —  v.  E — ,  who  is 
visiting  his  relative  here — a  high  and  distinguished 
diplomat.  The  cause  of  the  duel  is  reported  to  be  a 
member  of  our  Court  Theatre,  a  young  singer  who 
bears  the  best  of  reputations.  Count  W —  was  in- 
jured in  the  shoulder.  Herr  v.  E —  carried  off  a 
slight  wound  in  the  hand,  and  departed  immedi- 
ately." 

"Thunder  and  lightning!"  burst  forth  the  Chief 
Forester,  violently.  "The  betrothed  of  my  Toni 
has  a  duel  for  Marietta's  sake !  So  this  is  the  cause 
of  the  injured  hand  which  he  brought  with  him! 
This  is  charming,  indeed !  What  else  do  you  know 
about  it,  Regine?  My  paper  did  not  notice  it." 

"But  mine  did;  it  was  copied  from  one  of  your 
papers,  as  you  see.  I  read  it  yesterday  and  has- 
tened here  at  once.  I  did  not  even  stop  to  see  Her- 
bert, who  cannot  have  known  anything  about  it,  or 
he  would  have  notified  me." 

"Herbert  will  be  here  at  noon,"  said  Schonan, 
throwing  the  paper  angrily  upon  the  table.  "He  is 
at  Ostwalden  with  Adelaide,  and  has  written  that 
he  will  return  by  Furstenstein  and  stop  over  a  few 
hours.  Perhaps  he  is  coming  on  this  account,  but 
that  does  not  change  anything  in  the  matter.  Has 
that  boy — that  Willibald — gone  crazy?" 


292  THE    SIGN   OF   FLAME. 

"Yes,  that  he  has,"  assented  Frau  von  Eschen- 
hagen  in  like  anger.  "You  made  fun  of  me,  Moritz, 
when  I  exhorted  you  not  to  let  your  child  associate 
with  an  actress.  Indeed,  I  had  no  idea  that  matters 
could  take  such  a  turn  until  the  moment  I  discov- 
ered that  Willy — that  my  son — was  in  love  with 
Marietta  Volkmar.  I  snatched  him  instantly  from 
the  danger  and  returned  to  Burgsdorf.  This  was 
the  reason  of  our  sudden  departure,  which  I  kept 
from  you,  because  I  considered  Willy's  condition 
as  a  passing  fancy.  The  boy  seemed  to  have  re- 
turned .to  his  senses  completely.  I  would  not  other- 
wise have  permitted  him  this  journey;  and  to  be 
surer  still,  I  placed  him  under  the  protection  of  my 
brother.  He  cannot  have  been  more  than  three  or 
four  days  in  town,  and  now  we  must  live  to  see 
this!" 

Quite  exhausted,  she  threw  herself  into  an  arm- 
chair. The  Chief  Forester  began  to  stride  about  the 
room  vehemently.  "And  this  is  not  the  worst  yet," 
he  cried.  "The  worst  is  the  farce  which  the  boy  is 
playing  with  his  betrothed  here.  My  child  goes  to 
Waldhofen  day  after  day,  consoling  and  helping 
wherever  she  can,  and  the  Herr  Willy  always  runs 
along,  and  uses  the  opportunity  as  a  rendezvous. 
That  is  too  outrageous !  You  have  raised  something 
nice  in  that  son,  Regine." 

"Do  you  think  I  make  excuses  for  him?"  de- 
manded Regine.  "He  shall  answer  to  us  both — I 
have  come  for  that.  He  shall  learn  to  know  me." 

She  lifted  her  hand  as  if  making  a  vow,  and 
Schonan,  who  was  still  racing  through  the  room, 
repeated  angrily :  "Yes,  he  shall  learn  to  know  us." 

Then  and  there  the  door  opened,  and  the  betrayed 
bride-elect  entered  into  this  wild  excitement — calm 


THE    SIGN    OF   FLAME.  293 

and  serene  as  usual,  and  saying  in  the  most  inno- 
cent way:  "I  have  just  heard  of  your  arrival,  dear 
aunt;  you  are  very  welcome." 

She  received  no  answer,  but  from  both  sides  in- 
stead sounded  the  question :  "Where  is  Willibald?" 

"He  will  be  here  directly;  he  has  gone  to  the 
castle  gardener  for  a  few  moments,  as  he  did  not 
know  of  his  mother's  arrival." 

"To  the  gardener!  Perhaps  to  get  roses  as  be- 
fore," burst  forth  Frau  von  Eschenhagen;  but  the 
Chief  Forester  opened  his  arms  and  cried  in  pathetic 
tones : 

"My  child!  my  poor  betrayed  child!  Come  to 
me — come  into  your  father's  arms." 

He  attempted  to  draw  his  daughter  to  his  heart, 
but  Regine  came  upon  the  other  side  and  also  at- 
tempted to  draw  her  to  her  breast,  crying  out  in 
just  as  pathetic  tones:  "Compose  yourself,  Toni. 
An  awful  blow  confronts  you,  but  you  must  bear  it. 
You  must  show  your  betrothed  that  he  and  his  be- 
trayal are  an  abomination  to  your  deepest  soul." 

This  stormy  sympathy  was  rather  startling,  but 
fortunately  Antonie  had  strong  nerves.  So  she 
freed  herself  from  the  double  embrace,  stepped  back, 
and  said  with  calm  decision :  "I  do  not  think  it 
so.  I  begin  only  now  to  really  like  Willy." 

"So  much  the  worse,"  said  Schonan.  "Poor 
child,  you  do  not  know  yet;  you  have  no  idea  of 
anything!  Your  betrothed  has  had  a  duel  for  an- 
other's sake." 

"I  know  that,  papa." 

"For  Marietta's  sake,"  explained  Frau  von  Es- 
chenhagen. 

"I  know  it,  dear  aunt." 

"But  he  loves  Marietta !"  cried  both  in  accord. 


294  THE    SIGtf    OF   FLAME. 

"I  know  that,  too,"  replied  Toni,  with  superior 
mien.  "I  have  known  it  for  a  week." 

The  effect  of  this  explanation  was  so  crushing 
that  the  two  furious  people  became  silent  and  looked 
at  each  other  in  consternation.  Toni  continued 
with  imperturbable  composure : 

"Willy  told  me  everything  directly  upon  his  ar- 
rival. He  spoke  so  beautifully  and  truly  that  I 
wept  with  emotion.  At  the  same  time  a  letter  ar- 
rived from  Marietta,  in  which  she  begged  my  par- 
don, and  that  was  still  more  touching.  So  nothing 
was  left  to  me  but  to  give  back  to  Willy  his  promise 
and  freedom." 

"Without  asking  us?"  exclaimed  Regine. 

"The  asking  would  not  have  been  of  any  use 
here,"  said  Toni,  calmly,  "for  I  could  not  marry  a 
man  who  tells  me  that  he  loves  another.  We  have 
therefore  quietly  dissolved  our  engagement." 

"So?  And  I  learn  it  only  now?  You  have  be- 
come very  independent  suddenly,"  cried  her  father 
angrily. 

"Willy  intended  to  speak  to  you  the  next  day, 
papa,  but  he  could  not  have  remained  here  any 
longer  after  such  an  explanation,  and  just  then  oc- 
curred the  serious  illness  of  Dr.  Volkmar  and  Mari- 
etta's arrival.  She  was  in  despair — poor  Marietta! 
and  Willy's  heart  almost  broke  at  the  thought  of 
leaving  her  alone  in  this  anxiety  and  of  going  away 
without  knowing  what  turn  the  illness  would  take; 
so  I  proposed  to  him  to  keep  quiet  for  the  present, 
until  the  danger  should  be  past ;  but  I  went  with  him 
to  Waldhofen  daily,  so  that  he  could  see  and  con- 
sole Marietta.  They  have  been  so  grateful  to  me — 
those  two.  They  have  called  me  the  guardian  angel 
of  their  love." 


THE    SIGtt    OF   FLAME.  295 

The  young  lady  seemed  to  find  this  very  touching, 
too,  for  she  carried  her  handkerchief  to  her  eyes. 

Frau  von  Eschenhagen  stood  stiff  and  rigid  as  a 
statue,  but  Schonan  folded  his  hands  and  said  with 
a  resigned  sigh :  "May  God  bless  your  kindness, 
my  child!  but  such  a  thing  has  never  happened  be- 
fore. And  you  have  arranged  the  affair  very 
smoothly,  I  must  confess.  You  have  sat  and  looked 
quietly  on  while  your  betrothed  made  love  to  an- 
other girl." 

Antonie  shook  her  head  impatiently.  Appar- 
ently she  liked  the  role  of  guardian  angel,  and  found 
her  position  one  she  could  fill  without  any  great 
exertion,  since  her  affection  for  her  betrothed  had 
always  been  a  very  cool  one. 

"There  was  no  sign  of  love-making,  as  the  doctor 
was  too  seriously  ill,"  she  returned.  "Marietta 
cried  incessantly  and  we  had  plenty  to  do  to  console 
her.  Now  you  see  and  understand  that  I  am  not 
at  all  betrayed,  and  that  Willy  has  acted  openly  and 
honestly.  I  asked  him  myself  to  be  silent  to  you, 
and,  in  fact,  the  matter  concerns  us  only " 

"Do  you  think  so  ?  It  is  therefore  of  no  concern 
to  us?"  interrupted  the  Chief  Forester  furiously. 

"No,  papa.  Willy  is  of  the  opinion  that  we  need 
not  mind  our  parents  in  this  matter  at  all." 

"What  does  Willibald  mean?"  demanded  Frau 
von  Eschenhagen,  who  regained  her  speech  at  this 
unheard-of  assertion. 

"That  each  must  love  the  other  before  marrying, 
and  he  is  right,"  declared  Toni,  with  unusual  vivac- 
ity. "It  was  not  in  our  engagement  at  all — in  fact, 
we  were  not  even  consulted — but  I  shall  not  permit 
it  another  time.  I  see  now  what  it  means  for  two 
people  to  love  each  other  with  all  their  heart,  and 


296  THE    SIGN   OF   FLAME. 

how  remarkably  Willy  has  changed  through  it.  I, 
too,  want  to  be  loved  as  Marietta  is  loved,  and  if  I 
do  not  find  a  man  who  loves  me  exactly  like  that — 
then  I  shall  not  marry  at  all." 

And  after  this  remark  Fraulein  Antonie  walked 
out  of  the  room  with  much  decision  and  a  highly 
elevated  head,  leaving  father  and  aunt  in  an  inde- 
scribable condition. 

The  Chief  Forester  was  the  first  to  regain  com- 
posure, but  suppressed  vexation  was  still  in  his 
voice  as  he  turned  to  his  sister-in-law  and  said: 
"Your  boy  has  managed  nicely,  I  must  confess, 
Regine.  Now  Toni  wants  to  be  loved  also,  and  be- 
gins to  get  romantic  ideas  in  her  head,  and  Willy 
seems  to  be  far  gone  already  in  that  respect.  I  ac- 
tually believe  he  has  managed  to  make  this  second 
proposal  by  himself." 

Frau  von  Eschenhagen  paid  no  attention  to  this 
bitter  hint  of  her  interference  at  the  former  time. 
Her  face  bore  an  expression  which  promised  noth- 
ing good. 

"You  seem  to  look  upon  this  affair  from  a  comic 
standpoint,"  she  said.  "I  take  it  differently." 

"That  will  not  help  you  any,"  returned  Schonan. 
"When  such  a  model  son  commences  to  rebel,  the 
affair  is  usually  hopeless,  especially  when  he  is  in 
love.  But  I  am  curious  to  know  how  Willy  behaves 
himself  as  a  lover — it  must  be  a  remarkable  sight !" 


CHAPTER  XLI. 

HERR  VON  SCHONAN'S  curiosity  was  to  be  imme- 
diately satisfied,  for  Willy  now  appeared.  He  had 
heard  of  the  arrival  of  his  mother  and  was  therefore 
prepared  for  anything,  for  that  there  must  be  some- 
thing especial  to  bring  her  to  Furstenstein  so  unex- 
pectedly, he  knew.  But  the  young  lord  did  not 
shrink  back  this  time  as  he  did  two  months  ago, 
when  he  timidly  concealed  the  rose  in  his  pocket. 
His  bearing  betrayed  that  he  was  determined  to 
take  up  the  unavoidable  contest. 

"Here  is  your  mother,  Willy,"  commenced  the 
Chief  Fo'rester.  "I  suppose  you  are  very  much  sur- 
prised to  see  her  here?" 

"No,  uncle,  I  am  not,"  was  the  answer,  but  the 
young  man  made  no  attempt  to  approach  his  mother, 
for  she  stood  there  like  a  threatening  storm  cloud, 
and  her  voice  rumbled  like  distant  thunder  as  she 
said:  "So  you  know  why  I  have  come?" 

"I  at  least  guess  it,  mamma,  even  if  I  cannot 
understand  how  you  have  heard " 

"The  papers  have  told  all — there  it  lies,"  inter- 
rupted Frau  von  Eschenhagen,  pointing  to  the 
table,  "and,  besides,  Toni  has  told  us  everything — 
do  you  hear?  everything!" 

She  pronounced  this  last  word  in  an  annihilating 
tone.  Willy  was  not  moved  from  his  composure, 
but  replied  tranquilly: 

"Well,  I  *shall  not  have  to  tell  you,  then.  I 
should  have  spoken  to  uncle  to-day  about  it." 

297 


298  THE    SIGN   OF    FLAME. 

This  was  too  much.  The  storm  cloud  burst  now 
with  thunder  and  lightning;  it  loaded  and  dis- 
charged with  such  vehemence  over  the  head  of  the 
young  lord  that  really  nothing  seemed  left  for  him 
to  do  but  to  disappear  quickly  under  the  ground, 
which  could  not  bear  a  person  of  his  kind  any 
longer. 

But  he  did  not  disappear ;  he  only  bowed  his  head 
to  the  storm,  and  when  it  finally  subsided — for  Frau 
Regine  had  necessarily  to  draw  breath  some  time — 
he  drew  himself  up  and  said :  "Mamma,  please  let 
me  talk." 

"You  want  to  talk?  that  is  remarkable,"  declared 
Schonan,  who  was  not  used  to  such  efforts  from 
his  daughter's  betrothed ;  but  Willibald  actually  be- 
gan, hesitatingly  and  uncertainly  at  first,  but  he 
gradually  acquired  firmness  in  speech  and  bearing. 

"I  am  sorry  that  I  have  to  offend  you,  but  it  could 
not  be  helped.  I  am  just  as  innocent  about  the  duel 
as  Marietta  is.  She  was  being  followed  by  an  im- 
pertinent fellow  persistently.  I  protected  her  and 
chastised  the  offender,  who  sent  me  a  challenge, 
which  I  never  could  nor  would  decline.  I  have  to 
beg  Toni's  pardon  alone  for  loving  Marietta,  and 
I  did  that  immediately  upon  my  arrival.  She  heard 
everything  and  gave  me  back  my  pledge.  Indeed, 
we  have  broken  our  engagement  much  more  inde- 
pendently than  we  formed  it." 

"Oh,  ho,  is  that  meant  for  us  ?"  cried  the  Forester 
angrily.  "We  did  not  force  you — both  of  you  could 
have  said  no  if  you  had  wished." 

"Well,  we  do  that  now  as  a  supplement,"  returned 
Willibald,  so  quickly  that  Schonan  looked  at  him 
amazed.  "Toni  came  to  the  same  conclusion  that 
custom  alone  is  not  sufficient  for  marriage,  and  if 


THE    SIGN   OF   FLAME.  299 

one  has  learned  to  know  happiness,  one  wants  to 
possess  it  also." 

Fran  von  Eschenhagen,  who  had  not  yet  quite  re- 
gained her  breath,  started  at  these  words  as  if  bit- 
ten by  a  snake.  It  had  never  entered  her  mind  that 
a  second  engagement  would  follow  the  first,  now 
broken.  She  had  never  contemplated  this  most 
awful  of  possibilities. 

"Possess  it,"  she  repeated.  "What  do  you  wish 
to  possess  ?  Does  that  mean  perhaps  that  you  want 
to  marry  this  Marietta — this  creature " 

"Mamma,  I  beg  you  to  speak  in  a  different  tone 
of  my  future  wife,"  her  son  interrupted  her,  so 
gravely  and  decidedly  that  the  angry  mother  stopped 
indeed.  "Toni  has  given  me  freedom;  therefore 
there  is  no  wrong  in  my  love  for  Marietta,  and 
Marietta's  reputation  is  blameless — I  am  convinced 
of  that.  Whoever  hurts  or  offends  her  has  to  an- 
swer to  me,  even  if  it  should  be  my  own  mother." 

"Hear,  hear !  the  boy  is  coming  out,"  murmured 
the  Chief  Forester,  with  whom  the  sense  of  justice 
overpowered  his  vexation,  but  Frau  von  Eschen- 
hagen  was  far  from  listening  to  justice. 

She  had  thought  to  crush  her  son  with  her  ap- 
pearance, and  now  he  offered  her  resistance  in  this 
never  before  heard  of  manner. 

His  manly  behavior  tried  her  most,  as  she  recog- 
nized by  it  how  deep  and  powerful  was  the  feeling 
which  could  change  him  so  completely. 

"I  will  spare  you  the  enforcement  of  it  toward 
your  mother,"  she  said  with  boundless  bitterness. 
"You  are  of  age,  and  master  of  Burgsdorf.  I  can- 
not prevent"  you,  but  if  you  really  bring  this 
Marietta  yolkmar  there  as  your  wife. — then  I 
leave."-  " 


300  THE   SIGN   OF   FLAME. 

This  threat  did  not  miss  its  aim.  Willibald 
started  and  drew  back. 

"Mamma,  you  speak  in  anger." 

"I  speak  in  deepest  earnestness.  As  soon  as  an 
actress  enters  the  house  where  I  have  lived  and 
worked  for  thirty  years — where  I  had  hoped  to  lay 
my  head  down  for  its  final  rest — I  shall  leave  the 
house  forever.  She  may  reign  there  then.  You 
have  the  choice  between  her  and  your  mother." 

"But,  Regine,  do  not  force  it  to  such  a  conclu- 
sion," Schonan  tried  to  pacify  her.  "You  torture 
the  poor  boy  with  this  cruel  'either — or.' ' 

Regine  did  not  listen  to  the  exhortation.  She 
stood  there  white  to  the  lips,  her  eyes  immovably 
fixed  upon  her  son,  and  she  repeated  unyieldingly: 

"Decide  for  yourself — this  girl  or  me." 

Willibald  had  also  turned  pale,  and  his  lips  quiv- 
ered painfully  and  bitterly  as  he  said  in  a  low  tone: 

"That's  hard,  mamma ;  you  know  how  I  love  you, 
and  how  you  hurt  me  with  your  going  away;  but 
if  you  really  are  so  cruel  as  to  force  me  to  choose, 
well  then" — he  straightened  himself  with  decision — 
"then  I  choose  my  betrothed." 

"Bravo!"  cried  the  Chief  Forester,  forgetting 
entirely  that  he  was  one  of  the  offended  ones. 
"Willy,  I  feel  like  Toni.  I  begin  only  now  to  really 
like  you.  I  am  positively  sorry  now  that  you  will 
not  be  my  son-in-law." 

Frau  von  Eschenhagen  had  not  expected  such  a 
turn  of  affairs.  She  had  trusted  in  her  old  power, 
which  she  now  saw  fall  into  fragments,  but  she  was 
not  the  woman  to  give  in.  She  would  not  have 
bent  her  obstinate  will  even  if  her  life  had  depended 
upon  it. 

"Good!  then  we  have  finished  with  each  other," 


THE   SIGN   OF   FLAME.  30i 

she  said  curtly,  and  turned  to  go  without  heeding 
her  brother-in-law,  who  followed  her,  trying  to 
pacify  her;  but  before  they  reached  the  door  it  was 
opened  and  a  servant  entered  with  a  hasty  an- 
nouncement : 

"The  steward  of  Rodeck  is  outside  and  begs " 

"I  have  no  time  now,"  stormed  the  impulsive 
Schonan.  "Tell  Stadinger  I  cannot  speak  with  him 
at  present.  I  have  important  family  affairs ' 

He  did  not  finish,  for  Stadinger  already  stood 
upon  the  threshold,  having  followed  the  servant 
closely,  and  said  in  a  peculiarly  suppressed  tone: 
"I  come  about  a  family  affair  also,  Herr  Chief 
Forester,  but  it  is  a  sad  one.  I  cannot  wait,  but 
must  speak  to  you  immediately." 

"But  what  is  it?"  asked  Schonan,  mystified. 
"Has  something  happened?  The  Prince  is  not  at 
Rodeck  so  far  as  I  know." 

"No,  mein  Herr.  His  Highness  is  in  town,  but 
Herr  Rojanow  is  there  and  sends  me.  He  begs 
you  and  Herr  von  Eschenhagen  to  come  to  Rodeck 
immediately,  and  you,  gracious  lady" — he  glanced 
at  Frau  von  Eschenhagen,  whom  he  knew  from  her 
former  visits  to  Furstenstein — "you  would  do  well 
to  come  likewise." 

"But  why?  What  has  happened?"  cried  Scho- 
nan, now  really  disturbed. 

The  old  man  hesitated;  he  had  apparently  been 
charged  to  break  the  news  gradually.  Finally  he 
said :  "His  Excellency,  Herr  von  Wallmoden,  is  at 
the  castle,  and  the  Frau  Baroness  also." 

"My  brother!"  interrupted  Regine  with  appre- 
hension. 

"Yes,  gracious  lady.  His  Excellency  fell  out  of 
the  carriage,  and  now  he  lies  there  unconscious, 


302  THE    SIGN   OF   FLAME. 

•which  means  to  the  physician  we  called  in  great 
haste  that  the  matter  is  dangerous." 

"In  God's  name!  we  must  go  at  once,  Moritz," 
cried  the  frightened  lady. 

Herr  von  Schonan  had  already  grasped  the  bell 
rope  and  pulled  it. 

"The  carriage  as  quick  as  possible!"  he  cried  to 
the  servant.  "How  did  it  happen,  Stadinger?  Tell 
us  what  you  know." 

"The  Herr  Baron  was  coming  from  Ostwalden 
with  the  gracious  lady,  intending  to  come  to  Fur- 
stenstein,"  responded  Stadinger.  "The  road,  you 
know,  leads  through  the  Rodeck  tract  not  far  from 
the  castle.  Our  Forester,  who  was  with  some  of 
his  subordinates  in  the  Wald,  fired  a  few  shots,  and 
a  wounded  deer  dashed  across  the  road  in  wild 
flight  just  by  the  carriage.  The  horses  took  fright 
and  ran — the  driver  could  not  hold  them.  The 
two  Foresters  who  saw  it  ran  after  them.  They 
heard  the  Frau  Baroness  beg  her  husband:  'Re- 
main seated.  Herbert!  for  God's  sake,  no,  do  not 
jump,'  but  His  Excellency  seemed  to  have  lost  his 
head  entirely.  He  tore  the  door  open  and  jumped. 
At  the  wild  pace  they  were  going  he  fell,  of  course, 
with  full  force,  and  against  a  tree.  The  driver 
succeeded  in  bringing  his  horses  to  a  standstill  not 
far  at  a  bend  of  the  road.  The  Frau  Baroness, 
who  was  not  hurt,  hastened  to  the  place  of  misfor- 
tune as  quickly  as  possible,  and  she  found  the  poor 
gentleman  there  seriously  injured  and  unconscious. 
The  Forester's  people  carried  him  to  Rodeck,  which 
was  near  by.  Herr  I^tjanow  has  looked  after 
everything  that  could  be  done  at  the  moment,  and 
now  he  sends  me  to  bring  you  the  news." 

It  was  natural  that  under  the  pressure  of  this 


THE   SIGN   OF   FLAME.  303 

heart-rending  news  the  recent  bitter  family  quarrel 
should  cease  instantly.  In  great  haste  they  made 
ready  for  departure.  Antonie  was  called  and  in- 
formed, and  as  soon  as  the  carriage  drove  up  the 
Chief  Forester  and  his  sister-in-law  hastened  down- 
stairs. 

Willibald,  who  followed  with  Stadinger,  detained 
him  on  the  steps  for  a  moment  and  asked  in  a  low 
tone :  "Has  the  doctor  given  his  opinion  ?  Do  you 
know  anything  more  about  it?" 

The  old  man  nodded  sadly,  and  answered  also  in 
low  tones:  "I  stood  near  when  Herr  Rojanow 
asked  him  in  the  ante-room.  There  is  no  hope — 
the  poor  Excellency  will  not  live  through  the  day." 


CHAPTER  XLII. 

THE  little  hunting  castle  of  Rodeck,  which  lay 
so  cold  and  lonely  in  the  first  December  snowy  days, 
had  seldom  seen  such  excitement  as  to-day. 

It  was  about  noon  when  the  two  Foresters,  whose 
firing  was  the  innocent  cause  of  the  disaster,  brought 
the  injured  Ambassador  to  the  house.  They  had 
known  that  the  longer  march  to  Furstenstein  was 
impossible,  so  they  turned  toward  Rodeck,  which 
lay  scarcely  a  quarter  of  an  hour's  walk  from  the 
place  of  the  accident. 

Hartmut  Rojanow,  who  was  at  the  castle,  was 
immediately  called,  and  had  made  the  necessary 
arrangements  with  quick  decision.  The  rooms 
which  Prince  Adelsberg  usually  occupied  were  put 
at  the  disposal  of  the  Baroness,  and  a  messenger 
was  despatched  on  horseback  for  the  nearest  physi- 
cian, who,  fortunately,  was  easy  to  reach. 

When  the  doctor's  statement  allowed  no  hope, 
Stadinger  was  sent  to  Furstenstein  to  summon  the 
relatives,  who  soon  arrived,  but  only  to  find  Herr 
von  Wallmoden  dying.  He  did  not  regain  the 
consciousness  which  he  had  lo'st  in  that  awful  fall; 
he  lay  there  immovable,  recognizing  no  one;  and 
when  the  day  drew  to  a  close  all  was  over. 

The  Chief  Forester,  with  Willibald,  returned  to 
Furstenstein  towrard  night.     He  had  sent  a  tele-  * 
gram   before   leaving  Furstenstein,   to   notify   the 
Embassy  of  the  sad  accident  which  had  befallen  its 

304 


THE    SIGN    OF   FLAME.  305 

chief,  and  now  had  to  follow  it  with  the  announce- 
ment of  his  death. 

Frau  von  Eschenhagen  had  remained  at  Rodeck 
with  her  brother's  widow.  To-morrow  prepara- 
tions would  be  made  to  carry  the  body  to  the  Resi- 
denz,  and  the  two  ladies  wished  to  remain  at  his 
side  until  then. 

Adelaide,  who  had  proved  so  courageous  during 
the  danger,  and  who  had  done  her  full  duty  at  the 
bedside  of  her  husband,  seemed,  now  that  this  duty 
was  over,  to  give  way  entirely  under  the  sudden  and 
prostrating  blow.  She  was  stunned  and  dazed  by 
the  awful  accident. 


At  the  window  of  his  room,  which  was  in  an 
upper  story,  stood  Hartmut,  gazing  out  into  the 
desolate  forest,  which  glittered  so  ghostly  in  the 
dim  starlight.  Yesterday  had  brought  the  first 
snow,  and  now  everything  was  stiff  in  its  cold  em- 
brace. The  large  lawn  in  front  of  the  castle  was 
deeply  covered;  the  trees  bent  heavily  under  their 
white  burden,  and  the  broad  branches  of  the  firs 
were  bowed  to  the  ground. 

Up  there  in  the  dark  night  sky,  star  after  star 
shone  in  calm  splendor,  and  far  off  on  the  northern 
horizon  dawned  a  slight  rosy  light,  like  the  first 
greeting  of  the  dawn.  And  yet  it  was  night — cold, 
icy  cold,  winter  night,  in  which  as  yet  no  ray  of  the 
coming  day  could  fall. 

Hartmut's  eyes  were  riveted  upon  the  mysterious 
glow.  In  his  heart,  too,  it  was  dark,  and  yet  some- 
thing dawned*  there,  fair  and  low,  like  the  dawn  of 
the  morn.  He  had  not  seen  Adelaide  von  Wall- 
moden  since  that  fatal  hour  upon  the  forest  height, 


306  THE    SIGN    OF   FLAME. 

until  he  met  her  to-day  at  the  side  of  her  husband, 
who  had  been  borne,  bleeding  and  unconscious — 
dying — into  the  castle. 

This  sight  forced  back  every  remembrance,  and 
demanded  assistance  to  the  extent  of  his  power. 
He  had  not  entered  the  death  chamber,  and  had 
only  received  the  doctor's  report;  neither  had  he 
appeared  upon  Frau  von  Eschenhagen's  arrival,  but 
later  on  had  spoken  with  the  Chief  Forester  and 
Willibald.  Now  everything  was  decided.  Herbert 
von  Wallmoden  was  no  longer  among  the  living, 
and  his  wife  was  a  widow — was  free. 

A  deep  breath  agitated  Hartmut's  breast  at  the 
thought,  and  yet  nothing  joyful  was  in  it,  although 
his  feelings  had  undergone  a  change  since  the  hour 
he  ventured  his  highest  stake  and — lost. 

But  that  hour  had  proved  to  him  the  deep  abyss 
which  was  open  between  them  even  now  that  the 
bond  of  Adelaide's  marriage  was  broken.  She  had 
"shuddered"  before  the  man  who  believed  in  noth- 
ing— to  whom  nothing  was  sacred,  and  he  was  the 
same  man  he  had  been  then. 

He  had  offered  an  apology  without  words  in  the 
creation  of  the  added  portion  of  Arivana  which  bore 
her  name,  but  Ada  had  floated  back  to  the  heights 
from  which  she  had  come  with  her  cry  of  warning, 
and  mankind,  with  their  glowing  hate  and  love,  re- 
mained upon  earth. 

Hartmut  Rojanow  could  not  force  the  hot,  wild 
blood  which  flowed  in  his  veins  into  a  quiet  move- 
ment ;  he  could  not  bow  to  a  life  full  of  strict  obedi- 
ence and  duty — neither  did  he  wish  to.  For  what 
had  the  genius  which  won  his  way  everywhere  been 
given  him,  if  it  could  not  lift  him  over  the  duties  and 
barriers  of  every-day  life? 


THE   SIGtf   OF   FLAME.  30? 

And  yet  he  knew  that  those  large,  blue  eyes 
pointed  inexorably  to  the  hated  path — that  would 
never  do. 

The  red  glimmer  over  the  forest  yonder  had 
turned  darker  and  risen  higher.  It  looked  like  the 
reflection  of  a  powerful  fire;  but  that  calm,  steady 
light  came  from  no  fire.  Immovable  it  stood  in  the 
north;  mysterious,  high,  and  far  removed — an  au- 
rora in  approaching  splendor. 

The  rolling  of  a  carriage  coming  near  in  great 
haste  broke  Hartmut  from  his  revery.  It  was  past 
nine  o'clock;  who  could  arrive  at  such  an  hour? 
Perhaps  it  was  the  second  physician  who  had  been 
sent  for  in  the  afternoon,  but  who  had  been  away 
from  home;  perhaps  some  one  from  Ostwalden, 
where  the  news  may  have  already  been  carried. 

Now  the  carriage  turned  the  corner  of  the  lawn ; 
the  wheels  crunched  upon  the  hard,  frozen  ground, 
and  the  vehicle  reached  the  main  entrance  of  the 
castle. 

Rojanow,  who  to-day  represented  the  master  of 
the  house,  left  his  room  and  started  to  meet  the  new 
arrival.  He  had  reached  the  stairs  which  led  down 
to  the  entrance  hall,  and  put  his  foot  upon  the  first 
step,  when  he  suddenly  shuddered  and  remained 
rooted  to  the  spot. 

Down  there  a  voice  spoke  which  he  had  not  heard 
for  ten  long  years;  it  was  suppressed,  and  yet  he 
recognized  it  at  the  first  moment. 

"I  come  from  the  Embassy.  We  received  a  dis- 
patch this  afternoon,  and  I  took  the  first  train  to 
hasten  here.  How  is  he?  Can  I  see  Herr  von 
Wallmoden?': 

Stadinger,  who  had  received  the  newcomer,  re- 
plied in  such  low  tones  that  the  import  of  his  words 


Iv 


308  THE    SIGX   OF   FLAME. 

was  lost  to  Hartmnt,  but  the  stranger  asked  hastily : 
"I  do  not  come  too  late?" 

"Yes,  mein  Herr.  Herr  von  Wallmoden  died 
this  afternoon." 

A  short  pause  followed,  then  the  stranger  said, 
huskily  but  firmly:  "Lead  me  to  the  widow — an- 
nounce Colonel  von  Falkenried." 

Stadinger  turned  to  go,  followed  by  a  tall  figure 
in  a  military  cloak,  of  which  one  could  see  only  the 
outlines  in  the  dimly-lighted  hall. 

The  two  figures  had  long  ago  disappeared  in  the 
lower  rooms,  and  still  Hartmut  stood  leaning  on 
the  baluster,  looking  downward.  Only  when  Stad- 
inger returned  alone  did  he  collect  himself  and  re- 
tire to  his  room. 

Here  he  walked  restlessly  for  a  quarter  of  an  hour. 
It  was  a  hard,  silent  conflict  which  he  waged.  He 
had  never  been  able  to  bend  his  pride;  had  never 
humbled  himself,  but  he  had  to  bow  low  before  his 
deeply  offended  father — he  knew  that.  But  again 
a  burning,  absorbing  longing  overcame  him,  be- 
coming all-powerful  and  finally  conquering.  He 
drew  himself  up  resolutely. 

"No,  I  will  not  shrink  like  a  coward  now.  We 
are  under  one  roof;  the  same  walls  surround  us; 
now  it  shall  be  ventured.  He  is  my  father  and  I 
am  his  son." 


CHAPTER  XLIII. 

THE  castle  clock  struck  twelve  in  slow,  hollow 
strokes.  Deathlike  stillness  lay  over  the  forest  out- 
side, and  it  was  as  still  in  the  house  where  a  corpse 
lay.  The  steward  and  servants  had  retired,  as  had 
Frau  von  Eschenhagen.  Exhausted  nature  de- 
manded its  due.  She  had  made  the  long,  tedious 
journey  from  Burgsdorf  without  stop,  and  had  lived 
through  the  hard,  trying  day. 

Only  a  few  windows  were  dimly  lighted ;  they  be- 
longed to  the  rooms  which  had  been  appointed  to 
Frau  von  Wallmoden  and  Colonel  Falkenried,  which 
lay  near  together,  separated  only  by  an  ante-room. 

Falkenried  intended  to  accompany  the  widow  back 
to  the  Residenz  on  the  morrow.  He  had  spoken 
with  her  and  Regine,  and  had  stood  for  a  long  time 
beside  the  body  of  his  friend,  who  only  yesterday 
had  called  to  him  so  confidently,  "auf  wieder- 
sehen" — who  had  been  so  full  of  his  projects  and 
plans  for  his  future  and  his  newly  acquired  posses- 
sions. Now  all  this  had  come  to  an  end.  Cold  and 
stiff  he  lay  upon  his  bier,  and  cold  and  gloomy 
Falkenried  now  stood  at  the  window  of  his  room. 
Even  this  awful  accident  was  not  able  to  shake  his 
stony  composure,  for  he  had  long  ago  forgotten  to 
consider  death  a  misfortune.  Life  was  hard — but 
not  death. 

He  looked  ^silently  out  into  the  winter  night  and 
he,  too,  saw  the  ghostly  glimmer  which  lighted  the 

309 


310  THE   SIGtf   OP  FLAME. 

darkness  out  there.  Dark-red  it  now  glowed  upon 
the  distant  horizon,  and  the  whole  of  the  northern 
sky  seemed  penetrated  by  invisible  flames. 

Redlike,  as  through  a  purple  veil,  twinkled  the 
stars.  Now  a  few  distant  rays  shot  up,  growing 
more  numerous,  and  rising  always  higher  to  the 
zenith. 

Beneath  this  flaming  sky  the  snow-covered  world 
lay  cold  and  white.  The  aurora  was  shining  in  the 
fulness  of  its  splendor ! 

Falkenried  was  so  lost  in  the  glory  of  the  sight 
that  he  did  not  hear  the  opening  and  closing  of  the 
door  of  the  ante-room.  Carefully  the  partly  closed 
door  of  his  own  room  was  now  opened,  but  the  one 
entering  did  not  bring  himself  into  view,  but  re- 
mained motionless  upon  the  threshold. 

Colonel  Falkenried  still  stood  at  the  window  half- 
averted,  but  the  flickering  light  of  the  candles  which 
burned  upon  the  table  lighted  his  face  distinctly; 
the  strong,  deep  lines  of  the  features,  and  the 
gloomy,  careworn  brow  beneath  the  white  hair. 

Hartmut  shivered  involuntarily;  he  had  not  an- 
ticipated such  a  deep  and  awful  change.  The  man 
standing  in  his  prime,  looked  aged,  and  who  had 
brought  this  premature  age  upon  him? 

A  few  moments  passed  in  this  deep  silence,  then 
a  voice  vibrated  through  the  room — half-audible, 
beseeching,  and  full  of  a  tenderness  suppressed  with 
difficulty — a  single  wrord  pregnant  with  meaning. 

"Father!" 

Falkenried  started  as  if  a  spirit  voice  had  reached 
his  ear.  Slowly  he  turned  as  if  really  believing  he 
heard  a  spirit-haunting  voice. 

Hartmut  quickly  approached  a  few  steps,  then 
Stood  still. 


THE    8IGX   OF    FLAME.  311 

"Father,  it  is  I— I  come " 

He  stopped  short,  for  now  he  met  his  father's 
eyes;  those  eyes  which  he  had  feared  so  much,  and 
what  they  now  expressed  robbed  him  of  the  courage 
to  speak  further.  He  bowed  his  head  in  silence. 

Every  drop  of  blood  seemed  to  have  left  the  face 
of  Colonel  Falkenried.  He  had  not  known — he  had 
no  idea  that  his  son  was  under  the  same  roof  with 
him;  the  meeting  found  him  totally  unprepared, 
but  it  did  not  tear  from  him  one  exclamation,  nor 
sign  of  anger  or  weakness.  Rigid  and  mute  he 
stood  there  and  looked  upon  him  who  had  once  been 
his  all.  At  last  he  raised  his  hand  and  pointed  to 
the  door. 

"Go!" 

"Father,  listen  to  me " 

"Go,  I  say."  The  command  now  sounded  threat- 
ening. 

"No,  I  shall  not  go !"  cried  Hartmut  passionately. 
"I  know  that  reconciliation  with  you  depends  upon 
this  hour.  I  have  offended  you — how  deeply  and 
seriously  I  feel  only  now — but  I  was  a  boy  of  seven- 
teen, and  it  was  my  mother  whom  I  followed.  Think 
of  that,  father,  and  pardon  me — grant  pardon  to 
your  son." 

"You  are  the  son  of  the  woman  whose  name  you 
bear — not  mine!"  said  the  Colonel  with  cutting 
scorn.  "A  Falkenried  has  no  son  without  honor." 

Hartmut  was  about  to  burst  forth  at  this  awful 
word;  the  blood  rose  hot  and  wild  to  his  brow,  but 
he  looked  upon  that  other  brow  beneath  the  hair 
bleached  like  snow,  and  with  superhuman  effort  con- 
trolled himself. 

The  two  believed  themselves  alone  during  this 
interview  in  the  stillness  of  the  night — surely  every- 


312  THE   SIGN   OF   FLAME. 

thing  was  sleeping  in  the  castle.     They  had  no  idea 
that  a  witness  was  there. 

Adelaide  von  Wallmoden  had  not  retired  to  rest. 
She  knew  that  she  could  find  no  sleep  after  this  day 
which  had  so  suddenly  and  disastrously  made  her  a 
widow.  Dressed  still  in  the  dark  traveling  suit 
which  she  had  worn  on  the  unfortunate  drive,  she 
sat  in  her  room,  when  suddenly  Colonel  Falken- 
ried's  voice  reached  her  ear. 

With  whom  could  he  be  speaking  at  such  an 
hour  ?  Was  he  not  a  total  stranger  here  ?  And  the 
voice  sounded  so  strangely  hollow  and  threatening. 

She  arose  in  alarm  and  entered  the  ante-room 
which  separated  the  two  sleeping  apartments — for 
only  a  moment,  she  thought — only  to  see  that  noth- 
ing had  happened;  then  she  heard  another  voice 
which  she  knew — heard  the  word  "Father,"  and 
like  lightning  the  truth  flashed  upon  her,  which  the 
next  words  confirmed.  As  if  paralyzed,  she  re- 
mained standing  there,  every  word  reaching  her 
through  the  partly  closed  door. 

"You  make  this  hour  hard  for  me,"  said  Hartmut 
with  painfully  sustained  composure.  "Be  it  so — I 
have  not  expected  it  otherwise.  Wallmoden  has 
told  you  everything.  I  might  have  known  it,  but 
then  he  could  not  keep  from  you  what  I  have  sought 
and  won.  I  bring  to  you  the  laurel  of  the  poet, 
father — the  first  laurel  which  has  come  to  me.  Learn 
to  know  my  work ;  let  it  speak  to  you,  then  you  will 
feel  that  its  creator  could  not  live  and  breathe  in  the 
constraint  of  a  vocation  which  kills  every  poetical 
emotion ;  then  you  will  forget  the  unfortunate  error 
of  the  boy." 

Here  again  it  was  Hartmut  Rojanow  who  spoke 
thus  with  his  overweening  self-consciousness  and 


THE   SIGN   OF   FLAME.  313 

pride,  which  did  not  leave  him  even  in  this  hour; 
the  poet  of  Arivana,  for  whom  there  existed  no 
duties — no  barriers ;  but  he  encountered  a  rock  here, 
upon  which  he  shattered. 

"The  boy's  error!"  repeated  Falkenried,  just  as 
harshly  as  before.  "Yes,  they  called  it  so  to  make 
it  possible  for  me  to  remain  in  the  army.  I  name 
it  differently,  and  so  does  every  one  of  my  com- 
rades. You  were  to  have  been  an  ensign.  In  a 
few  weeks  it  would  have  been  desertion  of  the  stand- 
ard by  law  also.  I  have  never  considered  it  any- 
thing else.  You  had  been  raised  in  the  strict  dis- 
cipline of  honor  of  our  caste,  and  knew  what  you 
did,  for  you  were  no  longer  a  boy.  He  who  Hees 
secretly  from  the  military  service  which  he  owes  his 
fatherland  is  a  deserter;  he  who  breaks  a  vow — a 
given  word — is  without  honor.  You  did  both! 
But  of  course  you  and  your  kind  pass  over  such 
things  easily." 

Hartmut  clenched  his  teeth ;  his  whole  body  trem- 
bled at  these  merciless  words,  and  his  voice  sounded 
hollow,  choked,  as  he  answered : 

"Enough,  father.  I  cannot  bear  it.  I  wished  to 
bow  before  you — wished  to  submit — but  you  your- 
self drive  me  from  you.  This  is  the  same  cruel 
sternness  with  which  you  drove  my  mother  from 
you.  I  know  it  from  her  own  lips.  Whatever  her 
later  life  was,  and  however  through  it  my  own  has 
developed — this  severity  alone  has  been  the  cause 
of  it." 

The  Colonel  folded  his  arms,  and  an  expression 
of  unspeakable  disdain  quivered  around  his 
mouth.  % 

"From  her  own  lips  you  know?  Possibly.  No 
woman  has  sunk  so  deeply  but  she  would  try  to 


314  THE   SIGN   OF   FLAME. 

veil  such  a  truth  from  her  son.  I  did  not  wish  to 
pollute  your  ears  at  that  time  with  this  truth,  for 
you  were  innocent  and  pure.  Now  you  will  prob- 
ably understand  me  when  I  tell  you  that  the  sep- 
aration was  a  demand  of  honor.  The  man  who 
stained  my  honor  fell  by  my  bullet,  and  she  who  be- 
trayed me — I  pushed  from  me." 

Hartmut  became  white  as  death  at  this  disclo- 
sure. He  had  never  thought  that.  He  had  fully 
believed  that  only  the  harshness  which  lay  in  his 
father's  character  had  caused  the  separation.  The 
remembrance  of  his  mother  fell  lower  and  lower; 
he  had  loved  her  just  as  ardently  as  she  had  loved 
him,  even  when  he  felt  at  times  that  she  was  his 
ruin. 

"I  wished  to  protect  you  from  the  poisonous 
breath  of  this  presence  and  influence,"  continued 
Falkenried.  "Fool  that  I  was!  You  were  lost  to 
me  even  without  the  coming  of  your  mother.  You 
bear  her  features;  it  is  her  blood  that  courses 
through  your  veins,  and  it  would  have  demanded  its 
dominion  sooner  or  later.  You  would  have  become 
anyway  what  you  are  now — a  homeless  adventurer, 
who  does  not  recognize  his  fatherland  and  his 
honor." 

"This  is  too  much !"  burst  forth  Hartmut  wildly. 
"I  shall  not  permit  myself  to  be  so  abused,  even  by 
you.  I  see  now  that  no  reconciliation  between  us  is 
possible.  I  go,  but  the  world  will  judge  differently 
from  you.  It  has  already  crowned  my  first  work, 
and  I  shall  force  from  it  the  appreciation  which  my 
own  father  keeps  from  me." 

The  Colonel  looked  at  his  son — something  awful 
was  in  the  glance;  then  he  said  icily  and  slowly, 
emphasizing  each  word :  "Then  take  care  also  that 


THE   SIGN   OF   FLAME.  315 

the  world  does  not  learn  that  the  'crowned  poet' 
did  a  spy's  service  two  years  ago  at  Paris." 

Hartmut  shrank  as  if  hit  by  a  bullet. 

"I?    In  Paris?    Are  you  out  of  your  senses?" 

Falkenried  shrugged  his  shoulders  contemptu- 
ously. 

"Acting  besides?  Do  not  trouble  yourself — I 
know  all.  Wallmoden  proved  to  me  what  role 
Zalika  Rojanow  and  her  son  played  at  Paris.  I 
know  the  origin  of  the  means  by  which  they  con- 
tinued the  life  they  were  accustomed  to  when  their 
wealth  was  lost.  They  were  very  much  sought 
after  by  the  commissioners,  for  they  were  exceed- 
ingly apt,  and  they  who  bought  their  services  re- 
ceived them." 

Hartmut  stood  as  if  lifeless.  So  this  was  the 
awful  solution  of  the  problem  which  Wallmoden 
had  given  him  that  night  in  his  hint.  He  had  not 
understood  its  meaning  then,  but  sought  the  solu- 
tion in  another  direction.  This  was  it,  then,  which 
his  mother  kept  from  him — from  which  she  had 
diverted  him  with  caresses  and  coaxings  whenever 
he  put  a  suspicious  question.  She  had  sunk  to  the 
last,  most  disgraceful  lot — and  her  son  was  branded 
with  her. 

The  silence  which  now  ensued  was  awful;  it 
lasted  for  minutes,  and  when  Hartmut  finally  spoke 
again  his  voice  had  lost  its  sound — the  words  came 
brokenly,  almost  inaudibly,  from  his  lips: 

"And  you  believe — that  I — that  I  knew  about 
this?" 

"Yes,"  said  the  Colonel,  coldly  and  firmly. 

"Father,  »you  cannot — must  not  do  that.  The 
punishment  would  be  too  terrible.  You  must  be- 
lieve me  when  I  tell  you  that  I  had  no  idea  of  this 


316  THE    SIGN   OF   FLAME. 

disgrace — that  I  believed  a  part  of  our  wealth  had 
been  saved — that — you  will  believe  me,  father?" 

"No."  Falkenried  remained  rigid  and  unbend- 
ing as  before.  , 

Beside  himself  with  anguish,  Hartmut  fell  upon 
his  knees. 

"Father,  before  everything  that  is  sacred  to  you 
in  heaven  or  in  earth — oh,  do  not  look  at  me  so  ter- 
ribly. You  drive  me  frantic  with  that  look! 
Father,  I  give  you  my  word  of  honor " 

An  awful,  wild  laugh  from  his  father  interrupted 
him. 

"Your  word  of  honor — as  at  that  time  at  Burgs- 
dorf.  Get  up — abandon  acting;  you  do  not  deceive 
me  by  it.  You  went  from  me  with  a  breaking  of 
your  word — you  return  with  a  lie.  Go  your  own 
way — I  go  mine.  Only  one  thing  I  request  of  you 
— command  you.  Do  not  dare  to  use  the  name  of 
Falkenried  by  the  side  of  the  branded  one  of  Ro- 
janow.  Never  let  the  world  know  who  you  are. 
kWhen  that  happens  my  blood  will  be  upon  you,  for 
then — I  end  with  life !" 

With  a  loud  cry  Hartmut  sprang  to  his  feet  and 
approached  his  father,  but  Falkenried  repelled  him 
by  a  commanding  gesture. 

"Do  you  think  that  I  still  love  life  ?  I  have  borne 
it  because  I  had  to — perhaps  I  considered  it  my 
duty ;  but  there  is  one  point  where  this  duty  ends ; 
you  know  it  now — act  accordingly." 

He  turned  his  back  upon  his  son  and  walked  to 
the  window.  Hartmut  did  not  speak  another  word. 
Mutely  he  turned  to  go. 

The  ante-room  was  not  lighted,  yet  it  was  filled 
with  the  glow  of  the  blazing  skies  outside,  and  in 
this  glow  stood  a  woman — deathly  pale — with  eyes 


THE    SIGN   OF   FLAME.  317 

fixed  with  an  indescribable  expression  upon  the  one 
approaching. 

He  glanced  up  and  a  single  look  showed  him  that 
she  knew  all.  This  was  the  last.  He  had  received 
his  mortal  humiliation  before  the  woman  he  loved — 
had  been  thrown  into  the  dust  before  her! 

Hartmut  did  not  know  how  he  left  the  castle,  how 
he  reached  the  open  air.  He  only  felt  that  he 
should  stifle  in  those  walls — that  he  was  driven 
forth  with  fury  and  power.  He  found  himself  at 
last  under  a  fir  tree,  which  bowed  its  snow-covered 
limbs  over  him.  It  was  night  in  the  forest — cold, 
icy  winter  night,  but  up  there  in  the  sky  the  mys- 
terious light  shone  on  and  on  with  purple  power, 
with  quivering  rays,  which  united  at  the  zenith  into 
a  crown. 


CHAPTER  XLIV. 

IT  was  summer  again.  July  had  commenced,  and 
in  the  hot,  sun-parched  days  the  forest  mountains 
beckoned  irresistibly  with  their  cool  shadows,  and 
the  green,  airy  splendor  of  their  dales  and  heights. 

Ostwalden,  the  estate  which  Herbert  von  \Yall- 
moden  had  purchased  immediately  before  his  death, 
and  had  not  been  permitted  to  live  in  for  even  one 
summer,  had  since  then  rested  in  solitude.  But  a 
few  days  ago  the  young  widow  had  arrived  there 
in  company  with  her  sister-in-law,  Frau  von  Es- 
chenhagen. 

Adelaide  had  left  the  South  German  Residenz 
shortly  after  the  death  of  her  husband  and  returned 
home  with  her  brother,  who  had  hastened  to  her 
side  at  the  news  of  her  husband's  death.  Her  short 
married  life  had  lasted  but  eight  months,  and  now 
the  wife,  not  yet  twenty  years  old,  wore  the  widow's 
veil. 

Regine  had  been  easily  persuaded  to  accompany 
her  sister-in-law.  The  once  absolute  mistress  of 
Burgsdorf  had  stood  to  her  "either — or,"  and  as 
Willibald  proved  just  as  obstinate,  she  had  made 
her  threat  true,  and  had  moved  to  town  even  during 
the  first  period  of  mourning  for  her  brother. 

But  Frau  von  Eschenhagen  deceived  herself  if 
she  thought  to  gain  her  end  by  this  last  move.  She 
had  hoped  that  her  son  would  not  let  it  come  to  a 
real  separation,  but  it  was  in  vain  that  she  let  him 
feel  the  full  bitterness  of  the  separation.  The  young 

318 


THE  SIGN  OF  FLAME!.  319 

master  had  had  full  opportunity  to  prove  that  his 
newly  awakened  independence  and  love  were  not 
mere  momentary  feelings. 

He  tried  everything  to  make  his  mother  recon- 
sider, but  when  he  did  not  succeed,  he  showed  a  like 
stubbornness,  and  mother  and  son  had  not  seen  each 
other  for  months. 

However,  his  engagement  with  Marietta  had  not 
been  made  public  as  yet.  He  believed  he  owed  his 
former  fiancee  and  her  father  too  much  respect  to 
allow  a  second  betrothal  to  follow  too  soon  upon 
the  heels  of  the  first.  Besides,  Marietta  was  bound 
by  contract  to  the  theatre  for  fully  six  months,  and 
as  her  betrothal  was  to  remain  a  secret  for  the  pres- 
ent, she  could  not  obtain  an  earlier  release.  Only 
now  had  the  young  girl  returned  to  her  grand- 
father at  Waldhofen,  where  Willibald  was  also  ex- 
pected. 

Of  course  Frau  von  Eschenhagen  knew  nothing 
about  this  or  she  would  hardly  have  accepted  the  in- 
vitation which  brought  her  into  the  neighborhood. 

The  day  had  been  so  warm  and  sunny  that  only 
late  afternoon  brought  cooler  air,  but  the  road  to 
Ostwalden  was  mostly  shady,  as  it  lay  through  the 
forests  of  Rodeck. 

Two  horsemen  were  now  on  this  road;  one  in 
gray  hunting  jacket  and  hat — the  Chief  Forester, 
von  Schonan;  the  other  a  slender,  youthful  form 
clad  in  a  distinguished  looking  summer  suit — Prince 
Adelsberg.  They  had  met  by  chance  and  learned 
that  both  were  bound  for  the  same,  destination. 

"I  should  not  have  dreamed  of  meeting  you  here, 
Your  Highness,"  said  Schonan.  "It  was  said  that 
you  would  not  visit  Rodeck  at  all  this  summer,  and 
Stadinger,  with  whom  I  spoke  the  day  before  ye»- 


320  THE    SIGN   OF   FLAME. 

terday,  did  not  know  a  syllable  of  your  near  ar- 
rival." 

"No;  and  he  cried  Ach!  and  Weh!  when  I  fell 
upon  the  house  so  unexpectedly,"  replied  Egon.  "It 
would  not  have  needed  much  to  make  him  show  me 
from  my  own  door,  because  I  followed  my  dispatch 
instantly,  and  nothing  was  prepared  for  me.  But 
the  heat  at  Ostend  was  well-nigh  unbearable.  I 
could  not  stand  the  glowing  sands  of  the  beach  any 
longer,  and  was  overcome  by  an  irrepressible  long- 
ing for  my  cool,  quiet  forest  nook.  God  be  thanked 
that  I  have  gotten  away  from  the  heat  and  fuss  of  a 
watering  place !" 

His  Highness  was  pleased  not  to  tell  the  truth  in 
this  case.  He  had  hastened  here  from  the  beach  of 
the  North  Sea  to  enjoy  a  certain  "neighborhood" 
of  which  he  happened  to  hear.  Stadinger  had  men- 
tioned in  a  report,  in  which  he  asked  for  permission 
to  make  some  changes  at  Rodeck,  that  these  same 
arrangements  had  already  been  made  at  Ostwalden, 
where  Frau  von  Wallmoden  dwelt  at  present. 

To  his  surprise,  instead  of  the  expected  permis- 
sion, his  young  master  arrived  in  person  after  three 
days.  The  Prince  had  not  known  anything  better 
after  this  news  than  to  throw  over  all  his  summer 
plans. 

The  Chief  Forester  did  not  seem  to  believe  the 
pretext,  for  he  remarked  somewhat  sarcastically: 
"It  surprises  me,  indeed  then,  that  our  Court  stays 
at  Ostend  so  long.  The  Duke  and  Duchess  are 
there;  also  Princess  Sophie,  with  a  niece — a  rela- 
tive of  her  late  husband,  I  hear." 

"Yes,  a  niece."  Egon  turned  suddenly  and 
looked  at  the  speaker.  "Herr  Chief  Forester,  you. 
too,  want  to  deliver  congratulations  to  me — I  see  it 


THE    SIGN"   OF    FLAME.  321 

in  your  face — but  if  you  do  that  I  shall  challenge 
you  instantly  here  in  the  midst  of  the  forest." 

"Well,  Your  Highness,  I  do  not  intend  to  bring 
a  duel  upon  myself,"  laughed  Schonan,  "but  the 
newspapers  already  speak  quite  openly  of  an  ap- 
proaching or  already  consummated  engagement, 
which  suits  the  wishes  of  the  princely  ladies." 

"My  most  gracious  aunts  wish  many  things,"  said 
Egon  coolly.  "Their  most  obedient  nephew, 
though,  is  often  of  a  different  opinion,  alas ;  and  it 
has  been  the  case  this  time  also.  I  went  to  Ostend 
upon  the  invitation  of  the  Duke,  which  I  could  not 
refuse,  but  the  air  did  not  agree  with  me  at  all,  and 
I  cannot  risk  my  health  so  recklessly.  I  felt  the 
first  symptoms  of  sunstroke,  which  would  certainly 
have  taken  me  off,  so  I  decided,  then,  in  good 
time " 

"To  take  yourself  off,"  finished  Schonan.  "This 
is  like  Your  Highness,  but  now  you  can  count  upon 
a  three-fold  displeasure." 

"Possibly.  I  shall  bear  it  in  solitude  and  self- 
banishment.  I  intend,  besides" — here  the  young 
Prince  drew  a  very  solemn  face — "to  give  all  my 
attention  this  summer  to  my  estates — especially  Ro- 
deck.  A  change  in  the  building  shall  be  made 
there — Stadinger  has  already  written  me  about  it, 
but  I  considered  a  personal  surveillance  neces- 
sary." 

"On  account  of  the  chimneys?"  asked  Schonan 
dryly.  "Stadinger  thought  that  as  the  chimneys 
smoked  last  winter,  he  would  like  to  have  new  ones 
built." 

"What  does  Stadinger  know  about  it?"  cried 
Egon,  vexed  that  his  old  "Waldgeist"  had  again 
gotten  ahead  of  him  with  his  most  uncomfortable 


322  THE    SIGN    OF   FLAME. 

love  for  truth.     "I  have  very  grand  plans  for  beau- 
tifying      Ah,  here  we  are!" 

He  started  his  horse  into  a  quicker  gait  and  the 
Chief  Forester  followed  his  example,  for  Ostwalden 
indeed  lay  before  them. 

The  extensive  changes  with  which  the  late  Wall- 
moden  had  intended  to  convert  Ostwalden  into  a 
splendid  show  place  had  not  been  made ;  but  the  old 
ivy-covered  castle,  with  its  two  side  turrets,  and  the 
shady,  although  somewhat  neglected  park,  possessed 
a  picturesque  charm.  It  was  understood  that  the 
present  mistress  intended  neither  changes  nor  a  sale 
of  the  property,  for  to  the  heiress  of  the  Stahlberg 
wealth  a  villa  more  or  less  was  of  no  consequence. 

Upon  their  arrival  the  gentlemen  learned  that 
Frau  von  Wallmoden  was  in  the  park ;  but  Frau  von 
Eschenhagen  was  in  her  room.  The  Prince  allowed 
himself  to  be  announced  to  the  lady  of  the  house, 
while  the  Chief  Forester  first  looked  up  his  sister- 
in-law,  whom  he  had  not  seen  since  the  previous 
winter.  He  went  to  her  apartments  and  entered 
without  more  ado. 

"Here  I  am,"  he  announced  in  his  usual  uncere- 
monious manner.  "I  don't  need  to  be  announced  to 
my  Frau  sister,  even  if  she  seems  to  hold  me  at 
arm's  length.  Why  did  you  not  come  along,  Re- 
gine,  when  Adelaide  drove  to  Furstenstein  the  day 
before  yesterday?  Of  course,  I  do  not  believe  the 
excuse  which  she  brought  me  in  your  name,  and 
have  now  come  two  hours'  riding  on  horseback  to 
ask  for  an  explanation." 

Regine  offered  him  her  hand.  She  had  not 
changed  outwardly  in  these  six  or  seven  months. 
She  still  bore  the  same  strong,  self-reliant  appear- 
ance and  decided  way,  but  her  former  serenity  and 


THE    SIGtf   OP   FLAME.  323 

cheerfulness,  which,  in  spite  of  her  brusquerie,  were 
so  winning,  had  disappeared  from  her  manner.  If 
she  never  acknowledged  it  under  any  circumstances, 
it  was  plainly  to  be  seen  that  she  suffered  because 
her  only  son  grew  strange  to  her — the  son  to  whom 
once  his  mother's  love  and  will  had  been  all 
things. 

"I  have  nothing  against  you,  Moritz,"  she  re- 
plied. "I  know  that  you  have  retained  the  old 
friendship  for  me  in  spite  of  all  that  has  been  done 
.to  you  and  your  daughter;  but  you  ought  to  under- 
stand how  embarrassing  it  is  to  me  to  visit  Fursten- 
stein  again." 

"On  account  of  the  dissolved  engagement?  You 
ought  to  be  consoled  about  it  at  last.  You  were 
present  and  saw  and  heard  how  easily  Toni  took 
matters.  She  was  decidedly  better  pleased  with  her 
role  of  'guardian  angel'  than  with  that  of  fiancee; 
and  she  has  tried  several  times  to  change  your  mind 
by  her  letters,  just  as  I  have ;  but  we  both  have  been 
unsuccessful." 

"No ;  I  know  how  to  value  your  rare  magnanim- 
ity." 

"Rare  magnanimity!"  repeated  Schonan,  laugh- 
ing. "Well,  yes,  it  might  not  happen  often  that  the 
former  fiancee  and  prospective  father-in-law  put  in 
a  good  word  for  the  recreant  betrothed,  so  that  he 
and  his  sweetheart  may  gain  the  maternal  blessing. 
But  for  once  we  are  thus  superior  in  our  frankness ; 
and  besides,  both  of  us  came  to  the  conclusion  that 
Willy,  in  fact,  has  only  now  become  a  sensible  per- 
son, and  this  has  been  accomplished  solely  and  alone 
by — yes,  I  cannot  help  it,  Regine — by  the  little 
Marietta." 

Frau  von  Eschenhagen  frowned  at  this  remark. 


324  THE   SIGN    OF   FLAME. 

She  did  not  consider  it  best  to  answer  it,  but  asked 
in  a  tone  that  plainly  betrayed  her  wish  to  change 
the  subject:  "Has  Toni  returned?  I  learned 
through  Adelaide  that  she  had  been  at  the  Residenz, 
but  was  daily  expected  home." 

The  Chief  Forester,  who  had  accepted  a  seat  in 
the  meantime,  leaned  back  comfortably  in  his 
chair. 

"Yes,  she  returned  yesterday,  but  with  a  second 
shadow,  for  she  brought  some  one  along,  who  she 
insists  must  and  shall  be  her  future  husband,  and  he 
insists  upon  it  likewise  with  such  emphasis,  that 
really  nothing  is  left  for  me  to  do  but  to  say  Yes — 
Amen !" 

"What!  Toni  engaged  again?"  asked  Frau  von 
Eschenhagen  in  surprise. 

"Yes,  but  this  time  she  managed  it  all  by  herself; 
I  did  not  have  an  inkling  of  it.  You  will  remem- 
ber that  she  took  it  into  her  head  at  that  time  that 
she,  too,  wanted  to  be  loved  in  a  surpassing  manner, 
and  enjoy  the  usual  romance  of  it.  Herr  Lieuten- 
ant von  Waldorf  seems  to  have  attended  to  that. 
He  has,  as  she  told  me  with  highest  satisfaction, 
sunk  on  his  knees  before  her,  and  declared  he  could 
not  and  would  not  live  without  her,  while  she  gave 
him  a  similar  touching  assurance,  and  so  forth. 
Yes,  Regine,  it  will  not  do  any  longer  to  lead  the 
children  by  the  apron  strings  when  they  become  of 
age.  They  imagine  that  marriage  is  solely  their 
affair,  and  really  they  are  not  so  far  wrong 
about  it." 

The  last  remark  sounded  very  suggestive,  but 
Regine  overlooked  it  completely.  She  repeated 
thoughtfully : 

"Waldorf?  the  name  is  quite  strange    to    me. 


THE    SIGN   OF   FLAME.  325 

Where  did  Toni  get  acquainted  with  the  young 
officer  ?" 

"He  is  my  son's  friend  and  he  brought  him  home 
with  him  at  his  last  visit.  In  consequence  of  that 
an  acquaintance  with  his  mother  was  begun,  which 
ripened  until  she  invited  Toni  to  visit  her  some 
weeks,  and  there  and  then  the  falling  in  love  and 
engagement  took  place.  I  have  nothing  to  say 
against  it.  Waldorf  is  handsome,  jolly,  and  in  love 
up  to  his  ears.  He  does  seem  to  be  a  little  volatile, 
but  he  will  settle  down  when  he  gets  a  sensible  wife. 
The  model  boys  are  not  after  my  taste ;  they  are  the 
very  worst  when  they  do  get  wild,  as  we  have  seen 
in  your  Willy.  Waldorf  will  get  his  discharge  in 
the  fall,  for  my  daughter  is  not  suited  for  a  lieu- 
tenant's wife.  I  will  buy  an  estate  for  the  young 
couple,  and  the  wedding  will  occur  at  Christmas." 

"I  am  so  glad  for  Toni's  sake,"  said  Frau  von 
Eschenhagen,  cordially.  "You  take  a  burden  from 
my  heart  by  this  news." 

"I  am  glad,  too,"  nodded  the  Chief  Forester,  "but 
now  you  ought  to  follow  my  example  and  take  a 
burden  from  the  hearts  of  a  certain  other  couple. 
Be  reasonable,  Regine,  and  give  in!  The  little 
Marietta  has  remained  true,  although  she  was  on 
the  stage.  Everybody  praises  her  blameless  con- 
duct. You  do  not  need  to  be  ashamed  of  your 
daughter-in-law." 

Regine  arose  suddenly  and  pushed  her  chair  back. 

"I  beg  you  once  for  all,  Moritz,  to  spare  me  such 
requests.  I  shall  stand  firm  at  my  word.  Willi- 
bald  knows  the  condition  under  which  alone  I  will 
return  to  Bu^gsdorf.  If  he  does  not  fulfil  it — the 
separation  remains." 

"He  knows  better,"  said  Schonan  dryly,  "than 


326  THE   SIGN"   OF   FLAME. 

to  give  up  his  bride-elect  and  marriage  solely  be- 
cause she  does  not  suit  his  Frau  mamma.  Such 
conditions  are  never  fulfilled." 

"You  express  yourself  very  amiably  indeed,"  re- 
turned Frau  von  Eschenhagen  angrily.  "Of  course, 
what  do  you  know  of  the  love  and  anxiety  of  a 
mother,  or  of  the  gratitude  her  children  owe  her? 
All  of  you  are  ungrateful,  inconsiderate,  sel- 
fish  " 

"Oho !  I  beg  you,  in  the  name  of  my  sex,  to  re- 
frain from  such  vituperations,"  interrupted  the 
Chief  Forester  hotly;  but  suddenly  he  reconsidered 
and  said :  "We  have  not  seen  each  other  for  seven 
months,  Regine ;  we  really  ought  not  to  quarrel  the 
first  day  again — we  can  do  that  later  on.  Let  us 
therefore  leave  your  refractory  son  alone  for  the 
present,  and  speak  of  ourselves.  How  do  you  like 
it  in  town?  You  do  not  exactly  look  so  very  well 
satisfied." 

"I  am  exceptionally  satisfied,"  declared  Regine 
with  great  decision.  .  "What  I  need  only  is  work. 
I  am  not  used  to  idleness." 

"Then  create  work  for  yourself.  It  rests  solely 
with  you  to  again  step  to  the  head  of  a  large  house- 
hold." 

"Are  you  commencing  again " 

"I  did  not  mean  Burgsdorf  this  time,"  said  Scho- 
nan,  playing  with  his  riding  whip.  "I  only  meant 
— you  sit  all  alone  in  town,  and  I  shall  sit  all  alone 
at  Furstenstein  when  Toni  marries — that  is  very 
tiresome!  How  would  it  be — well,  I  have  already 
explained  it  to  you  once  before,  but  you  did  not  want 
me  then.  Perhaps  you  have  bethought  yourself 
better  now.  How  would  it  be  if  we  should  make 
the  third  couple  at  this  double  wedding?" 


THE    SIGN   OF   FLAME.  32? 

Frau  von  Eschenhagen  looked  gloomily  to  the 
floor  and  shook  her  head. 

"No,  Moritz.  I  feel  less  like  marrying  now  than 
ever." 

"Already  a  'No'  again !"  shouted  the  Chief  For- 
ester wrathfully.  "Is  this  a  second  refusal  you  give 
me?  At  first  you  did  not  want  me  because  your 
son  and  your  beloved  Burgsdorf  had  grown  too  near 
your  heart,  and  now  when  you  see  that  both  get 
along  very  well  without  you,  you  do  not  want  me 
because  you  do  not  'feel  like  it.'  Feeling  does  not 
belong  to  marrying,  anyhow — only  some  sense  is 
wanted;  but  if  one  is  unreasonableness  and  obsti- 
nacy personified " 

"You  woo  me  in  a  very  flattering  manner,  in- 
deed," interrupted  Regine,  now  wrathful  also.  "It 
would  be  an  exceedingly  peaceful  marriage  if  you 
act  like  this  as  a  suitor." 

"It  would  not  be  peaceful,  but  neither  would  it  be 
tiresome,"  declared  Schonan.  "I  believe  we  could 
both  stand  it.  Once  more,  Regine,  do  you  want  me 
or  do  you  not  want  me?" 

"No ;  I  do  not  care  to  'stand'  a  married  life." 

"Then  let  it  alone!"  cried  the  Chief  Forester 
furiously,  jumping  up  and  snatching  his  hat.  "If 
it  gives  you  so  much  pleasure  to  say  'No'  forever, 
then  say  it.  But  Willy  will  marry  in  spite  of  you, 
and  he  is  right ;  and  now  I  shall  be  the  best  man  at 
the  wedding  just  to  spite  you." 

With  which  he  rushed  off,  quite  beside  himself  at 
this  second  jilting,  and  Frau  von  Eschenhagen  re- 
mained behind  in  a  similar  frame  of  mind.  They 
had  really  quarrelled  again  at  the  first  Wiedersehen, 
and  even  the  second  refusal  could  not  be  left  out  of 
this  friendly  habit 


CHAPTER  XLV. 

MEANTIME  Prince  Adelsberg  was  with  Frau  von 
Wallmoden  in  the  park.  He  had  begged  her  not  to 
interrupt  her  outing,  and  so  they  both  walked  in  the 
shade  of  the  huge  trees  in  the  cool,  green  twilight, 
while  out  on  the  meadow  lay  still  the  glaring  sun- 
light. 

Egon  had  not  seen  the  young  widow  since  the 
death  of  her  husband.  The  formal  visit  of  condo- 
lence, which  he  had  made  after  the  accident,  had 
been  received  by  Eugene  Stahlberg  in  the  name  of 
his  sister,  and  then  they  had  left  the  city  immedi- 
ately. 

Adelaide  wore,  of  course,  the  widow's  mourning ; 
but  her  companion  thought  he  had  never  seen  her  so 
beautiful  as  to-day  in  the  deep,  sombre  black  and 
crepe  veil,  beneath  which  the  blonde  hair  glim- 
mered. His  glance  passed  repeatedly  over  this 
beautiful  blonde  head,  and  always  the  question  re- 
curred :  What  has  really  happened  to  these  features 
that  they  look  so  entirely  different? 

Egon  had  only  known  the  lady  at  whose  side  he 
now  walked  in  that  cool,  haughty  composure  which 
had  made  her  so  unapproachable  to  him  and  the 
world.  Now  this  coldness  had  disappeared,  and  he 
saw  and  felt  but  could  not  decipher  the  strange 
change  which  had  taken  its  place. 

The  young  widow  could  not  possibly  mourn  so 
deeply  and  seriously  for  a  husband  who  was  so  far 
removed  from  her  in  age,  and  who,  even  had  he  been 

328 


THE    SIGN    OF    FLAME.  329 

young,  could  never  have  given  her  the  love  youth 
demands,  with  his  practical,  coldly  calculating  na- 
ture. And  yet  there  lay  over  her  whole  appearance 
the  expression  of  secret  suffering  —  of  a  sorrow 
which  was  mutely  but  painfully  borne. 

Where  did  this  mysterious  line  come  from,  this 
soft  light  of  the  eyes  which  seemed  to  have  learned 
but  now  to  know  tears  ? 

"It  always  seems  to  me  as  if  life  and  fire  could 
glow  there  and  transform  the  snow  region  into  a 
blooming  world,"  Prince  Adelsberg  had  once  ex- 
claimed in  jest.  Now  this  transformation  had 
taken  place,  slowly,  almost  imperceptibly.  But  this 
soft,  half-painful  expression  which  replaced  the 
former  seriousness,  this  dreamy  look,  gave  a  charm 
to  the  young  woman  which,  with  all  her  beauty,  had 
been  missing  before — a  charming,  gentle  grace. 

At  first  the  conversation  touched  upon  indifferent 
things  only,  the  questions  and  answers  that  were 
customary  and  formal.  Egon  narrated  incidents  of 
happenings  during  the  winter  at  Court  and  in  town, 
and  then  offered  the  same  explanation  of  his  sudden 
arrival  which  he  had  given  the  Chief  Forester, 
speaking  of  the  unendurable  heat  at  Ostend  and  of 
his  longing  for  the  cool,  still  forest  solitude. 

A  fleeting  smile  which  quivered  over  the  lips  of 
his  companion  told  him  that  she  believed  this  pre- 
text as  little  as  had  the  Chief  Forester,  and  that  the 
notice  in  the  papers  had  also  been  seen  by  her.  He 
grew  unaccountably  vexed  about  it  and  studied  how 
he  could  remedy  the  mistake,  here  where  he  could 
not  be  so  plain-spoken,  when  Adelaide  suddenly 
asked :  "Shall  you  remain  alone  at  Rodeck,  Your 
Highness?  Last  summer  you  had  a — guest  with 
you." 


330  THE    SIGN   OF    FLAME. 

A  shadow  passed  over  the  face  of  the  young 
Prince.  He  forgot  the  rumor  of  his  engagement 
and  his  anger  about  it  at  this  remark. 

"You  mean  Hartmut  Rojanow?"  he  asked, 
gravely.  "He  will  hardly  come,  as  he  is  in  Sicily  at 
present,  or  at  least  was  there  two  months  ago.  I 
have  had  no  news  from  him  since,  and  do  not  even 
know  where  to  write  him." 

Frau  von  Wallmoden  bent  down  and  picked  some 
flowers  growing  at  the  wayside  as  she  remarked :  "I 
thought  you  were  in  lively  correspondence  with  each 
other." 

"I  hoped  so  at  the  beginning  of  our  separation, 
and  it  is  not  my  fault;  but  Hartmut  has  become  a 
perfect  mystery  to  me  lately.  You  were  witness  of 
the  brilliant  success  of  his  'Arivana'  at  our  Court 
Theatre ;  it  has  since  then  been  reproduced  at  several 
other  theatres.  The  play  is  conquering  by  storm 
wherever  it  appears,  and  the  author  withdraws  from 
all  these  triumphs — almost  flees  from  his  rising 
fame — hides  from  all  the  world,  even  from  me.  Let 
who  can  comprehend  it!" 

Adelaide  had  regained  her  former  erect  carriage, 
but  the  hand  which  held  the  flowers  trembled 
slightly,  while  her  eyes  were  directed  upon  the 
Prince  in  breathless  expectancy. 

"And  when  did  Herr  Rojanow  leave  Germany?" 
she  asked. 

"At  the  beginning  of  December.  Shortly  before 
that  he  had  gone  to  Rodeck  for  a  few  days  immedi- 
ately after  the  first  appearance  of  his  drama.  I  con- 
sidered it  a  caprice  and  yielded.  Then  he  suddenly 
returned  to  my  house,  in  town,  in  a  condition  of 
mind  and  body  which  really  frightened  me,  and  an- 
nounced his  departure ;  listened  to  no  entreaties,  an- 


THE    SIGN   OP   FLAME.  331 

swered  no  questions,  but  remained  firm  about  going, 
and  really  left  like  a  whirlwind.  Weeks  passed  be- 
fore I  heard  of  him ;  then  he  sent  me  occasional  let- 
ters, which,  if  rare  enough,  at  least  kept  me  aware 
of  his  whereabouts,  and  I  could  answer  him.  He 
went  to  Greece,  where  he  strayed  now  here,  now 
there.  After  that  he  went  to  Sicily,  but  now  all  in- 
formation has  stopped,  and  I  am  in  the  greatest 
alarm." 

Egon  spoke  with  suppressed  excitement.  One 
could  see  how  deeply  the  separation  from  his  pas- 
sionately loved  friend  hurt  him.  He  did  not  dream 
that  the  young  widow  at  his  side  could  have  given 
him  an  explanation  of  the  mystery.  She  knew 
what  drove  Hartmut  to  wander  restlessly  from  land 
to  land;  what  made  him  shudder  before  the  famous 
poet's  name  which  bore  that  secret  but  awful  stain. 
But  it  was  the  first  news  she  had  heard  of  him  since 
that  disastrous  night  at  Rodeck,  which  had  discov- 
ered everything  to  her. 

"Poets  are  sometimes  differently  constituted 
from  common  mortals,"  she  said,  slowly  plucking  to 
pieces  one  of  her  flowers.  "They  have  the  right 
sometimes  to  be  incomprehensible." 

The  Prince  shook  his  head,  incredulously  and 
sadly. 

"No,  it  is  not  that;  this  comes  from  an  entirely 
different  source.  I  felt  long  ago  that  something 
dark — mysterious — lay  in  Hartmut's  life,  but  I 
never  inquired  into  it,  for  he  would  not  suffer  the 
slightest  touch  on  this  point,  and  he  kept  silent  per- 
sistently. It  is  as  if  he  stands  under  a  doom,  which 
gives  him  no  peace  or  rest  anywhere,  and  which 
springs  upon  him  suddenly  when  one  thinks  it 
buried  and  forgotten,  J  received  tbis  impression 


332  THE    SIGN    OF   FLAME. 

anew  when  he  took  leave  of  me  in  wild  agitation ;  it 
was  impossible  to  hold  him.  But  you  cannot 
imagine  how  I  miss  him !  He  has  spoiled  me  with 
his  presence  for  over  two  years  and  with  all  the  ad- 
vantages of  his  rich,  fiery  nature  which  he  gave  lav- 
ishly. Now  everything  has  become  desolate  and 
colorless  to  me,  and  I  do  not  know  at  times  how  I 
can  bear  life  without  him." 

They  came  to  a  standstill,  for  they  had  reached 
the  limit  of  the  park.  Green  meadows  lay  before 
them  in  the  sunlight,  and  over  yonder  rose  the 
heights  of  the  forest  mountains.  Adelaide  had  list- 
ened in  silence,  while  her  gaze  was  lost  in  the  far 
distance ;  but  now  she  turned  suddenly  and  stretched 
out  her  hand  to  her  companion. 

"I  believe  you  can  be  a  very  sacrificing  friend, 
Your  Highness.  Herr  Rojanow  ought  not  to  have 
left  you;  perhaps  you  could  have  saved  him  from 
this— doom." 

Egon  could  not  believe  his  senses ;  the  warmth  of 
the  heartfelt  tone — the  eyes  in  which  a  tear  glim- 
mered— the  whole,  almost  passionate,  sympathy 
with  his  sorrow  surprised  as  much  as  it  delighted 
him.  He  grasped  the  hand  fervently  and  pressed 
his  lips  upon  it. 

"If  anything  can  console  me  for  Hartmut's  de- 
parture, it  is  your  sympathy !"  he  cried.  "You  will 
permit  me  to  use  the  privilege  of  a  neighbor  and 
come  occasionally  to  Ostwalden  ?  Do  not  deny  me 
this,  as  I  am  so  lonely  at  Rodeck,  and  I  came  here 
only  and  solely " 

He  checked  himself  suddenly,  for  he  felt  that 
such  a  confession  was  not  appropriate  but  an 
offense,  as  he  saw  plainly. 

The  young  widow  withdrew  her  hand  quickly  and 


THE    SIGN   OF   FLAME.  333 

drew  back.  It  had  required  only  this  moment  to 
transform  her  again  into  "Aurora." 

"To  flee  from  the  heat  and  noise  of  a  watering 
place  like  Ostend,"  she  finished  coolly.  "You  said 
so,  at  least,  a  little  while  ago,  Your  Highness." 

"It  was  a  pretext,"  declared  the  Prince,  gravely. 
"I  left  Ostend  only  to  put  an  end  to  certain  rumors 
which  were  connected  with  my  stay  there,  and 
which  even  found  their  way  into  the  papers.  They 
were  positively  without  foundation  so  far  as  I  am 
concerned,  I  give  you  my  word,  Your  Excellency." 

He  had  quickly  embraced  the  opportunity  to  dis- 
pel the  error  which  he  did  not  wish  to  suffer  at  this 
place  at  any  price,  but  the  result  did  not  come  up  to 
his  expectation.  Frau  von  Wallmoden  had  again 
wrapped  herself  up  in  her  old,  unapproachable  man- 
ner and  made  him  suffer  for  his  premature  haste. 

"Why  this  solemn  explanation,  Your  Highness? 
As  it  was  only  a  rumor,  I  understand  just  as  fully 
as  your  other  neighbors  that  you  wish  to  retain  the 
privilege  of  choice.  But  I  believe  we  must  return 
to  the  castle,  as  you  said  that  my  brother-in-law  had 
come  with  you,  and  I  should  like  to  see  him  before 
he  leaves." 

Egon  bowed  assent,  and  tried  obediently  to  ac- 
cept the  indifferent  and  every-day  tone  by  which  he 
was  made  aware  that  he  should  not  be  anything 
more  here  than  a  "neighbor."  He  took  the  first 
favorable  moment  at  the  castle  to  make  his  excuses, 
which  were  immediately  accepted,  but  not  without 
an  invitation  to  come  again  had  been  given,  and  that 
was  at  present  the  most  important  thing. 

"Blamed  Jiaste!"  he  muttered  as  he  galloped 
away.  "Now  I  shall  be  kept  as  distant  as  ever,  per- 
haps for  weeks.  As  soon  as  one  tries  to  approach 


334  THE    SIGN   OF   FLAME. 

the  woman  a  little  nearer — the  ice  stares  into  one's 
face.  But" — and  here  the  face  of  the  Prince  lit  up 
— "but  at  last  the  ice  commences  to  melt.  I  saw 
and  felt  it  in  that  tone  and  look.  I  must  be  patient 
here — the  prize  is  worthy  one's  perseverance." 

Egon  von  Adelsberg  did  not  dream  that  this  look 
and  tone,  upon  which  he  built  his  hopes,  were  for 
another,  and  that  she  wished  only  to  hear  from  that 
other  when  the  permission  to  call  again  had  been 
given. 


CHAPTER  XLVI. 

JULY  had  only  half  gone  when  the  world,  which 
seemed  but  now  to  repose  in  deepest  calm,  was  sud- 
denly startled  from  this  peace.  A  lightning  had 
flamed  up  on  the  Rhine,  the  glare  and  uncanny  light 
of  which  reached  from  ocean  to  the  Alps.  A  war- 
cloud  stood  heavy  and  threatening  in  the  west,  and 
soon  the  cry  of  war  resounded  through  the  land. 

It  broke  over  Southern  Germany  like  a  whirlwind 
— tore  men  from  their  field  of  action,  changed  all 
conditions  and  overthrew  all  plans.  Where  a  week 
ago  comfort  and  security  reigned,  men  were  now 
grasped  and  carried  away  by  storm. 

At  Furstenstein  the  daughter  of  the  house  was 
celebrating  her  betrothal,  but  she  had  to  take  leave 
of  her  betrothed,  who  hastened  to  his  regiment. 

At  Waldhofen,  where  Willibald  was  expected  for 
a  long  visit,  he  appeared  suddenly  in  stormy  haste 
to  see  Marietta  once  more  in  the  few  days  which 
remained  before  he,  too,  should  be  called  away. 

At  Ostwalden,  Adelaide  prepared  for  departure, 
to  once  more  embrace  the  brother  who  had  hastened 
to  join  the  standard. 

Prince  Adelsberg  had  left  Rodeck  at  the  first 
news  of  war,  and  hurried  to  the  Residenz,  which  he 
reached  at  the  same  hour  as  the  Duke.  The  world 
seemed  all  at  once  to  have  gotten  an  entirely 
changed  face,  and  the  people  with  it. 

In  the  little  garden  of  Dr.  Volkmar's  house  stood 

335 


336  THE   SIGN   OF   FLAME. 

Willibald  von  Eschenhagen,  talking  earnestly  and 
impressively  with  the  grandfather  of  his  fiancee, 
who  sat  before  him  upon  a  bench,  and  did  not  seem 
to  be  acquiescent  to  what  Willy  was  explaining. 

"But,  my  dear  Willy,  this  is  precipitation  with- 
out an  equal,"  the  good  doctor  said,  shaking  his 
head.  "Your  engagement  with  Marietta  has  not 
yet  been  made  public,  and  now  you  want  to  be  mar- 
ried heels  over  head.  What  will  the  world  say 
to  it?" 

"The  world  finds  everything  explained  under  the 
present  circumstances,"  returned  Willibald;  "and 
we  cannot  go  after  outside  considerations.  I  have 
to  go  to  war,  and  it  is  my  duty  to  secure  Marietta's 
future  in  any  case.  I  cannot  bear  the  thought  that 
she  should  have  to  return  to  the  stage  after  my 
death,  or  should  be  dependent  upon  my  mother's 
mercy.  The  fortune  to  which  I  am  heir  is  in  my 
mother's  hands,  who  disposes  of  it  exclusively.  I 
possess  as  yet  only  the  entailed  estates  which,  in 
case  I  die,  go  over  to  a  side  branch  of  the  family; 
but  our  family  law  secures  the  widow  of  the  lord  of 
the  estates  a  rich  dowry.  If  it  should  not  be 
granted  me  to  return  from  battle,  I  want  to  give  my 
fiancee  at  least  the  name  and  position  in  life  to 
which  she  has  a  right.  I  cannot  go  to  the  war  con- 
tentedly until  this  has  been  arranged  first." 

He  spoke  quietly,  but  with  much  decision.  The 
awkward,  timid  Willibald  could  not  be  recognized 
in  this  young  man,  who  overlooked  the  situation  so 
clearly  and  pleaded  so  earnestly  for  his  wishes  to  be 
granted. 

He  had  had,  however,  a  school  of  independence 
in  those  last  six  months,  when  he  had  been  put  en- 
tirely upon  his  own  resources,  and  had  his  firmness 


THE    SIGN   OF   FLAME.  337 

continually  tried  in  the  contest  with  his  mother ;  and 
one  could  see  that  he  had  learned  something  in  this 
school. 

His  outward  appearance  was  also  more  prepos- 
sessing; in  fact,  as  the  Chief  Forester  expressed  it, 
he  had  only  now  become  a  man. 

Dr.  Volkmar  could  not  resist  these  arguments. 
He  well  knew  that  if  the  war  took  away  her  be- 
trothed, Marietta  would  again  be  without  means 
and  without  protection ;  and  a  burden  fell  from  his 
heart  at  the  thought  of  her  secure  future.  There- 
fore he  gave  up  all  argument  and  only  asked: 
"What  does  Marietta  say  to  it  ?  Has  she  given  her 
consent  ?" 

"Yes;  we  decided  on  it  last  night,  directly  after 
my  arrival.  Of  course,  I  did  not  speak  to  her  about 
security  and  widowhood,  for  she  would  have  been 
beside  herself  if  I  had  dwelt  at  length  upon  the 
case  of  my  death ;  but  I  told  her  that  in  case  of  my 
being  wounded,  she,  as  my  wife,  could  hasten  to  me 
without  preliminaries  or  companions,  and  could  re- 
main with  me,  and  this  decided  her.  We  should 
have  had  but  a  quiet  wedding,  anyway." 

His  face  clouded  at  the  last  words,  and  the  doctor 
said,  with  a  sigh :  "Yes,  indeed,  none  of  us  would 
have  been  inclined  to  celebrate  the  wedding  with 
festivities  if  the  couple  had  to  go  to  the  altar  with- 
out the  blessing  of  the  mother.  Have  you  really 
tried  every  way  with  her,  Willy?" 

"Everything,"  replied  the  young1  lord,  solemnly. 
"Do  you  think  it  will  be  easy  for  me  to  miss  my 
mother  on  such  a  day?  But  she  has  left  me  no 
choice,  therefore  I  must  bear  it.  I  shall  now  take 
the  necessary  steps  instantly,  and  in  anticipation 
thereof  have  brought  my  papers  with  me." 


338  THE    SIGN   OF   FLAME. 

"And  do  you  believe  that  a  marriage  can  be  pos- 
sible on  such  short  notice?"  asked  the  doctor, 
doubtfully. 

"At  this  time,  yes.  The  formalities  have  been 
reduced  to  the  necessities,  and  all  preliminaries  are 
dispensed  with  where  a  hasty  marriage  is  desired. 
As  soon  as  Marietta  is  my  wife,  she  will  accompany 
me  to  Berlin,  where  she  will  remain  until  my  regi- 
ment leaves.  Then  she  will  return  to  you  until  the 
close  of  the  war." 

Volkmar  arose  and  gave  Willibald  his  hand. 

"You  are  right;  it  is  perhaps  best  so  under  the 
present  circumstances.  Well,  my  little  singvogel, 
so  you  will  really  marry  as  quickly  as  your  be- 
trothed wishes?" 

The  question  was  addressed  to  Marietta,  who 
now  entered  the  garden.  Her  pale  cheeks  showed 
the  trace  of  tears,  but  it  was  with  an  exceedingly 
happy  look  that  she  flew  into  Willibald's  open  arms. 
•  "I  am  ready  at  any  time,  grandpapa,"  she  said, 
simply.  "The  leave-taking  will  be  easier  to  us  after 
we  belong  to  each  other  and  you  give  your 
blessing." 

The  old  gentleman  looked  half  sadly,  half  happily 
upon  the  young  couple,  who  wished  to  be  united  be- 
fore their  sad  separation  should  so  quickly  take 
place.  Then  he  said,  with  emotion  :  "Well,  so  be  it: 
marry  then  with  my  blessing.  I  give  it  to  you  from 
my  inmost  heart." 

Everything  necessary  was  then  quickly  discussed. 
The  marriage  was  to  take  place  as  soon  as  possible, 
and,  of  course,  quietly  and  simply.  Willibald  in- 
tended to  go  to  Furstenstein  to-day  to  notify  the 
Chief  Forester  of  the  settled  plan. 

Dr.  Volkmar  left  them  to  make  a  call  upon  a 


THE   SIGN   OF   FLAME.  339 

patient,  and  Willibald  remained  alone  with  his 
fiancee.  They  had  not  seen  each  other  for  so  long, 
and  now  the  future  lay  dark  and  threatening  before 
them.  But  the  next  few  days  belonged  to  them,  and 
they  were  happy  in  this  thought,  in  spite  of  every- 
thing. 


CHAPTER  XLVII. 

ENGAGED  in  their  subdued  chatting,  they  did  not 
notice  that  the  house  door  was  opened,  and  some 
one  came  with  slow,  rather  hesitating  steps  along 
the  hall,  until  the  rustle  of  a  woman's  dress  upon  the 
gravel  path  made  them  listen,  and  suddenly  both 
sprang  to  their  feet. 

"My  mother!"  cried  Willibald,  in  joyful  sur- 
prise; but  at  the  same  time  he  put  his  arm  around 
Marietta  as  if  he  wished  to  protect  her  from  a  re- 
newed attack,  for  Frau  von  Eschenhagen's  face 
seemed  hard  and  gloomy,  and  her  bearing  did  not 
look  like  reconciliation. 

Without  noticing  the  young  girl,  she  turned  to 
her  son: 

"I  learned  through  Adelaide  that  you  were  here," 
she  began  in  a  rather  harsh  tone,  "and  I  only 
wanted  to  ask  how  everything  is  at  Burgsdorf. 
Have  you  looked  for  a  steward  during  your  ab- 
sence? One  does  not  know  how  long  the  war  will 
last?" 

The  joyous  expression  on  the  face  of  the  young 
lord  vanished.  He  had  really  hoped  for  a  different 
greeting  at  this  unexpected  appearance  of  his 
mother. 

"I  have  arranged  everything  to  the  best  of  my 
ability,"  he  replied.  "The  greater  part  of  my  peo- 
ple have  been  called  to  enlist ;  even  the  inspector  has 
to  leave  in  a  few  days,  and  a  substitute  cannot  be 

340 


THE   SIGN   OF   FLAME.  341 

had  now.  Work  must  therefore  be  reduced  to  the 
necessities,  and  old  Martens  will  overlook  every- 
thing." 

"Martens  is  a  goose,"  said  Regine,  in  her  old, 
terse  way.  "If  he  takes  the  reins,  everything  at 
Burgsdorf  will  go  topsy-turvy.  Nothing  else  is  left 
for  me  to  do  but  to  go  there  myself  and  look  after 
things  right." 

"How?  You  would?"  cried  Willibald.  But  his 
mother  cut  him  short. 

"Do  you  think  I  would  let  your  possessions  go  to 
nothing  while  you  are  in  the  war?  It  will  be  se- 
curely cared  for  in  my  hands — you  know  that.  I 
have  held  the  reins  there  long  enough  and  will  do  it 
again — until  you  return." 

She  still  spoke  in  the  hard,  cold  tones,  as  if  she 
wished  to  exclude  every  warmer  feeling.  But  now 
Willy  stepped  up  to  her,  with  his  arm  still  around 
his  bride-elect. 

"You  will  take  care  of  my  worldly  possessions, 
mamma,"  he  said,  reproachfully;  "you  will  take 
them  under  your  protection.  But  for  the  best  and 
dearest  thing  that  belongs  to  me  you  have  no  word 
nor  look.  Have  you  really  only  come  to  tell  me 
that  you  will  go  to  Burgsdorf?" 

Fran  von  Eschenhagen's  harsh  reticence  could 
not  hold  fast  at  this  question.  Her  lips  trembled. 

"I  came  to  see  my  only  son  once  more  before  he 
goes  to  war — perhaps  to  death,"  she  said,  with  pain- 
ful bitterness.  "I  had  to  hear  from  others  that  he 
had  come  to  say  farewell  to  his  bride.  He  did  not 
come  to  his  mother,  and  that  —  that  I  could  not 
bear." 

"We  should*  have  come,"  cried  the  young  lord; 
"we  should  have  made  one  more  attempt  to  win 


342  T£E   StGtf   OF   FLAME. 

your  heart  before  leaving.  See,  mother,  here  is  my 
bride-elect — my  Marietta.  She  is  waiting  for  a 
friendly  word  from  you." 

Regine  threw  a  long  look  upon  the  young  couple, 
and  again  her  face  quivered  painfully  as  she  saw 
how  Marietta  pressed  shyly,  but  confidently,  to  the 
man  in  whose  protection  she  knew  herself  so  secure. 
Maternal  jealousy  stood  a  last,  hard  struggle;  but 
finally  she  allowed  herself  to  be  conquered.  She 
stretched  out  her  hand  to  the  young  girl. 

"I  offended  you  once,  Marietta,"  she  said,  in  a 
half-stifled  voice,  "and  did  you  a  possible  wrong 
that  time ;  but  for  that  you  have  taken  from  me  my 
boy,  who,  until  then,  had  not  loved  anybody  but  his 
mother,  and  who  now  loves  nobody  but  you.  I  be- 
lieve we  are  quits." 

"Oh,  Willy  loves  his  mother  as  dearly  as  ever," 
Marietta  said  heartily.  "I  best  know  how  he  has 
suffered  under  the  separation." 

"So?  Well,  we  will  have  to  agree  with  each 
other  for  his  sake,"  said  Regine,  with  an  attempt  at 
playfulness,  which  did  not  quite  succeed.  "We 
shall  be  in  a  great  deal  of  anxiety  about  him  soon, 
when  we  know  him  in  the  battlefield ;  care,  anxiety, 
will  be  plentiful  then.  What  do  you  think,  my 
child?  I  believe  we  could  bear  it  easier  if  we  worry 
about  him  together." 

She  opened  her  arms,  and  the  next  second  Mari- 
etta lay  sobbing  upon  her  breast.  Tears  glittered 
also  in  the  eyes  of  the  mother  when  she  bent  down 
to  kiss  her  future  daughter-in-law;  but  then  she 
said  in  the  old,  commanding  tone:  "Do  not  cry; 
hold  up  your  head,  Marietta,  for  a  soldier's  fiancee 
must  be  brave — remember  that." 

"A    soldier's    wife,"    corrected    Willibald,    who 


THE   SIGN   OF   FLAME.  343 

stood  by  with  beaming  eyes.  "We  have  just  now 
decided  to  be  married  before  I  leave." 

"Well,  then,  Marietta  really  belongs  to  Burgs- 
dorf,"  declared  Regine,  who  was  hardly  surprised, 
and  seemed  to  find  this  decision  quite  in  order.  "No 
arguments,  child.  The  young  Frau  von  Eschen- 
hagen  has  nothing  to  do  further  at  Waldhofen,  ex- 
cept as  she  comes  for  a  visit  to  her  grandfather. 
Or  are  you  perhaps  afraid  of  your  grim  mother-in- 
law?  But  I  believe  you  have  in  him" — she  pointed 
to  her  son — "a  sufficient  protection,  even  if  he  is  not 
at  home.  He  would  be  capable  of  declaring  war 
upon  his  own  mother  if  she  did  not  bear  his  little 
wife  upon  her  hands." 

"And  she  will  do  that,  I  know  it.  When  my 
mother  opens  her  heart,  she  does  it  perfectly." 

"Yes,  now  you  can  flatter,"  Frau  von  Eschen- 
hagen  said,  with  a  rebuking  glance.  "So  you  go 
with  me  to  your  future  home,  Marietta.  You  need 
not  worry  about  the  duties;  I  will  attend  to  that. 
When  I  go  away  again  it  will  be  different ;  but  I  see 
already  that  Willy  will  hold  you  like  a  princess  all 
your  life  long.  It  is  right  with  me,  just  so  he  re- 
turns to  us  safe  and  sound." 

She  reached  out  her  hands  now  to  her  son,  and 
those  two  had  perhaps  never  been  in  a  closer  or 
more  loving  embrace  than  to-day. 

When  the  three  entered  the  house,  a  quarter  of  an 
hour  later,  they  met  the  Chief  Forester,  who  ac- 
tually started  back  at  the  sight  of  his  sister-in-law. 
Regine  marked  his  surprise  with  the  liveliest  satis- 
faction. 

"Well,  Moritz,  am  I  still  the  most  unreasonable, 
obstinate  person?"  she  asked,  offering  her  hand. 
But  Schonan,  who  had  not  recovered  from  his  jilt- 


344  THE    SIGN   OF    FLAME. 

ing,  kept  his  behind  him,  and  muttered  something 
incomprehensible.  Then  he  turned  to  the  young 
couple : 

"So?  And  now  you  are  to  be  married  in  hot 
haste.  I  met  Dr.  Volkmar  just  now  and  he  told  me 
about  it;  so  I  came  to  offer  myself  as  best  man. 
But  perhaps  that  will  not  be  acceptable,  since  the 
Frau  Mamma  is  at  her  post." 

"Oh,  you  are  just  as  cordially  welcome,  uncle," 
cried  Willibald. 

"Well,  yes,  I  can  just  be  used  as  a  secondary  per- 
son in  a  marriage,"  grumbled  the  Chief  Forester, 
with  a  reproachful  glance  at  Regine.  "And  so  there 
will  be  a  marriage  before  the  war?  One  must  say, 
Willy,  you  have  marched  with  seven-league  boots 
from  your  practical  Burgsdorf  into  romance,  and  I 
should  never  have  looked  for  it  in  you.  However, 
my  Toni  is  just  as  intent  upon  romance.  She  and 
Waldorf  would  have  liked  best  to  marry  like  this  in 
steaming  haste  before  marching  orders  came,  but  I 
have  vetoed  that,  for  circumstances  are  different 
with  us,  and  I  do  not  care  to  already  sit  at  home, 
lonely  as  an  owl." 

He  glanced  again  with  the  very  grimmest  expres- 
sion at  Frau  von  Eschenhagen,  but  she  approached 
him  now,  and  said,  cordially :  "Do  not  bear  malice, 
Moritz.  So  far  we  have  always  made  up  again. 
Let  us  forget  this  quarrel  also.  You  see,  at  least, 
that  I  can  say  'Yes'  for  once,  when  the  whole  happi- 
ness of  my  boy  depends  upon  it." 

The  Chief  Forester  hesitated  a  moment  longer, 
then  grasped  the  offered  hand  and  pressed  it  cor- 
dially. "I  see  it,"  he  acknowledged,  "and  perhaps 
you  will  now  forget  altogether  that  blamed  'No,' 
Regine,  about  another  point." 


CHAPTER  XLVIII. 

THE  Steward  of  Rodeck  stood  in  the  study  of 
Prince  Adelsberg's  palace,  in  the  Residenz.  He 
had  been  called  there  to  receive  various  orders  and 
plans  before  the  departure  of  his  young  lord. 

Egon,  who  already  wore  the  uniform  of  his  regi- 
ment, had  given  him  verbal  instructions,  and  now 
dismissed  the  old  man. 

"Keep  the  old  forest  nook  in  good  order  for  me 
as  heretofore,"  he  concluded.  "It  is  just  possible 
that  I  may  go  to  Rodeck  for  a  few  hours  before  I 
leave,  but  I  hardly  believe  so,  for  the  order  to  march 
may  come  any  day.  How  do  I  please  you  in  my 
uniform?" 

He  arose  and  drew  himself  up  to  his  full  height. 
The  slender,  youthful  form  looked  well  in  the  uni- 
form of  a  lieutenant,  and  Stadinger  measured  him 
with  admiring  eyes. 

"Real  splendid !"  he  assured  the  Prince.  "It  is  a 
pity  that  Your  Highness  is  not  a  soldier  by  pro- 
fession." 

"Do  you  think  so?  Well,  I  am  one  now,  body 
and  soul.  Service  in  the  field  will  come  rather  hard 
to  me,  and  I  will  have  to  get  used  to  it  first.  But  it 
does  not  hurt  when  one  is  under  strict  discipline." 

"No,  Your  Highness,  it  will  not  hurt  you  at  all," 
remarked  Stadinger,  with  his  terrible  truthfulness. 
"When  Your  Highness  travels  about  for  years  in 
the  Orient  with  a  great  sea  serpent  and  a  whole  herd 

345 


346  THE    SIGN    OF    FLAME. 

of  elephants,  or  when  you  run  away  from  the  most 
gracious  Court  at  Ostend  because  you  do  not  want 
to  marry  at  all — nothing  comes  of  that  but 
only " 

"But  only  stupidity,"  completed  the  Prince, 
wisely.  "Stadinger,  I  shall  severely  miss  one  thing 
in  the  campaign  —  your  boundless  tiresomeness. 
You  want  to  give  me  a  last  curtain  lecture — I  see  it 
in  your  face — but  will  spare  you  the  trouble.  Re- 
member me  rather  to  Lena  when  you  get  home.  Is 
she  back  at  Rodeck  now  ?" 

"Yes,  Your  Highness,  now  she  is  there,"  said  the 
old  man,  with  heavy  emphasis. 

"Of  course,  because  I  march  to  France.  But  be 
content ;  I  shall  return  a  genuine  model  of  sense  and 
virtue,  and  then — then  I  shall  marry,  too." 

"Really?"  Stadinger  cried  in  joyful  surprise. 
"How  glad  the  most  gracious  Court  will  be." 

"That  depends,"  teased  Egon.  "I  may  terrorize 
the  most  gracious  Court  with  my  engagement,  and 
perhaps  inflict  cramps  upon  my  most  gracious  Aunt 
Sophie  with  it.  Don't  look  so  stupid  at  this,  Stad- 
inger. You  don't  understand  it,  but  I  will  permit 
you  to  crack  your  head  over  it  during  the  campaign. 
But  now  go,  and  if  we  should  not  see  each  other 
again — keep  your  master  in  pleasant  remembrance." 

Stadinger's  face  took  on  the  grimmest  of  wrin- 
kles to  hide  the  upwelling  tears,  but  he  could  not 
succeed. 

"How  can  Your  Highness  talk  like  that?"  he 
muttered.  "Shall  I,  an  old  man,  remain  perhaps 
alone  in  this  world,  and  not  see  you  any  more — so 
handsome — so  young  and  happy!  I  could  not  live 
at  that." 

"And  I  have  vexed  you  so  much,  old  Waldgeist," 


THE    SIGN    OF   FLAME.  347 

said  the  young  Prince,  giving  him  his  hand;  "but 
you  are  right — we  must  think  of  victory  and  not 
death.  But,  when  both  come  together,  then  death 
is  easy." 

The  old  man  bent  over  his  master's  hand,  and  a 
tear  fell  upon  it. 

"I  wish  I  could  go,  too,"  he  said,  under  his 
breath. 

"I  believe  it,"  laughed  Egon ;  "and  you  would  not 
look  bad  as  a  soldier,  in  spite  of  your  snow-white 
hair.  But  we  younger  ones  have  to  march  now, 
and  you  old  ones  remain  at  home.  Farewell,  Stad- 

inger "  He  shook  his  hand  cordially.  "I 

really  believe  you  are  crying.  You  ought  to  be 
ashamed  of  yourself.  Away  with  tears  and  sad 
anticipations.  You  will  yet  read  me  another 
lecture." 

"May  God  grant  it!"  sighed  Peter  Stadinger, 
from  the  depths  of  his  heart.  With  wet  eyes  he 
looked  once  more  into  the  youthful  face,  so  full  of 
life,  smiling  at  him,  so  happy  and  sure  of  victory. 
Then  he  left  sadly,  with  bowed  head,  realizing 
how  much  his  young  master  had  grown  into  his 
heart. 

The  Prince  cast  a  glance  at  the  clock.  He  was 
to  go  to  his  superior,  but  saw  that  he  had  almost  an 
hour  yet,  so  he  reached  for  the  newspapers  and 
plunged  into  the  newest  dispatches  and  reports. 

A  rapid  footstep  sounded  in  the  ante-room. 
Egon  looked  up  in  surprise.  Servants  were  not  in 
the  habit  of  making  such  a  noise,  and  callers  were 
always  announced.  But  this  caller  did  not  need  any 
announcing^  as  all  the  servants  knew.  All  doors 
were  open  to  him  in  the  house  of  Prince  Adelsberg. 

"Hartmut,  is  it  you?" 


348  THE    SIGN    OF    FLAME. 

Egon  sprang  to  his  feet  in  joyful  surprise,  and 
cast  himself  on  the  breast  of  the  newcomer. 

"You  back  in  Germany,  and  I  have  no  idea  of  it ! 
You  wicked  monster,  to  leave  me  for  fully  two 
months  without  news  of  you!  Have  you  come  to 
say  good-by  to  me  ?" 

Hartmut  had  neither  returned  the  greeting  nor 
the  stormy  embrace.  Silently  and  gloomily  he  suf- 
fered both,  and  when  he  spoke  at  last,  even  his  tone 
betrayed  nothing  of  the  joy  of  this  Wiedersehen. 

"I  came  straight  from  the  depot.  I  hardly  dared 
hope  to  find  you  still  here,  and  yet  everything  de- 
pends upon  it  for  me." 

"But  why  did  you  not  announce  your  return  to 
me  ?  I  wrote  you  immediately  after  the  declaration 
of  war.  You  were  still  in  Sicily  then,  were  you 
not?" 

"No ;  I  left  there  as  soon  as  war  seemed  unavoid- 
able, and  did  not  receive  your  letter.  I  have  been 
in  Germany  a  week." 

"And  you  come  to  me  only  now?"  said  Egon,  re- 
proachfully. 

Rojanow  did  not  notice  this  reproach.  His  eyes 
rested  upon  his  friend's  uniform  with  almost  a  jeal- 
ous expression. 

"You  are  already  on  duty,  I  see,"  he  said,  hastily. 
"I  also  intend  to  enter  the  German  army." 

Egon  evidently  expected  something  entirely  dif- 
ferent. He  retreated  a  step  in  boundless  surprise. 

"In  the  German  army?     You — a  Roumanian?" 

"Yes,  and  therefore  I  have  come  to  you.  Will 
you  make  it  possible  for  me  ?" 

"I?"  asked  the  Prince,  whose  surprise  grew 
greater  and  greater.  "I  am  nothing  more  than  a 
young  officer.  If  you  are  really  in  earnest  in  this 


THE    SIGN   OF   FLAME.  349 

strange  resolve,  you  must  go  to  one  of  the  standing 
posts  of  command." 

"I  have  already  done  that  at  various  places.  I 
have  tried  it  even  in  your  neighboring  state,  but 
they  will  not  accept  the  stranger.  They  demand  all 
sorts  of  papers  and  references,  which  I  do  not  pos- 
sess, and  torture  me  with  endless  questions.  Every- 
where suspicion  and  mistrust  affront  me.  Nobody 
will  understand  my  resolve." 

"To  speak  the  truth,  Hartmut,  I  don't  under- 
stand it,  either,"  said  Egon,  solemnly.  "You  have 
always  showed  such  a  deep  antipathy  to  Germany — 
you  are  the  son  of  a  country  whose  higher  circles 
know  only  French  education  and  customs — which 
stands  in  sympathy  exclusively  with  France.  The 
mistrust  of  strangers  is  easily  understood.  But 
why  do  you  not  turn  directly  to  the  Duke,  and  per- 
sonally accomplish  your  desires?  You  know  how 
prepossessed  he  is  with  the  poet  of  'Arivana.'  It 
will  cost  you  only  an  audience,  which  will  be 
granted  you  at  any  time,  and  an  order  from  him 
will  remove  every  difficulty  and  admit  every  ex- 
ception." 

Rojanow's  glance  fell,  and  his  clouded  brow  grew 
darker  as  he  replied :  "I  know  that,  but  I  cannot  ask 
anything  from  that  side.  The  Duke  would  put  the 
same  questions  as  all  the  rest,  and  I  could  not  with- 
hold the  answer  from  him,  and  the  truth — I  cannot 
tell  it  to  him." 

"Not  even  to  me?"  asked  the  Prince,  stepping  up 
to  him  and  laying  his  hand  on  Hartmut's  shoulder. 
"Why  do  you  insist  so  persistently  upon  entering 
our  army  ?  v  What  do  you  look  for  under  our 
colors  ?" 

Hartmut  passed  his  hand  across  his  brow,  as  if 


350  THE    SIGN    OF   FLAME. 

to  wipe  something  away  from  there.  Then  he  re- 
plied, heavily  and  huskily : 

"Salvation — or  death." 

"You  return  as  you  went — a  puzzle,"  said  Egon, 
shaking  his  head.  "You  have  hitherto  refused 
every  explanation.  Can  I  not  now  learn  your 
secret  ?" 

"Obtain  me  an  entrance  into  your  army,  and  I 
will  tell  you  everything,"  Rojanow  cried  in  feverish 
excitement.  "No  matter  under  what  conditions, 
only  see  that  it  is  granted  me.  But  do  not  speak  to 
the  Duke  nor  to  a  general,  but  turn  to  one  of  the 
lower  commanders.  Your  name,  your  relationship 
with  the  reigning  house  makes  your  word  powerful. 
They  will  not  answer  Prince  Adelsberg  with  a  'No' 
when  he  himself  speaks  for  a  volunteer." 

"But  the  same  question  will  be  put  to  him  as  to 
you — you,  a  Roumanian." 

"No,  no,"  cried  Hartmut,  passionately.  "If  I 
must  confess  it  to  you — I  am  a  German." 

The  effect  of  this  disclosure  was  not  as  great  as 
Hartmut  might  have  feared.  The  Prince  looked  at 
him  for  a  moment,  amazed. 

"I  have  thought  so  at  times,  for  the  one  who 
could  compose  an  Arivana  in  the  German  language 
did  not  get  this  language  by  education,  but  had 
grown  up  with  it.  But  you  bear  the  name  Ro- 
janow  " 

"The  name  of  my  mother,  who  belonged  to  a 
Roumanian — Bojar's  family.  My  name  is — Hart- 
mut von  Falkenried." 

His  own  name  sounded  strange  in  his  ears,  for 
he  had  not  pronounced  it  for  years ;  but  Egon  grew 
attentive  at  the  name. 

"Falkenried?     That  was  the  name  of  the  Prus- 


THE    SIGN    OF   FLAME.  351 

sian  Colonel  who  came  on  that  secret  mission  from 
Berlin.  Are  you  any  connection  of  his?" 

"He  is  my  father." 

The  young  Prince  looked  compassionately  upon 
his  friend,  for  he  saw  how  terribly  hard  this  confes- 
sion came  to  him.  He  felt  that  a  family  drama  was 
hidden  here,  and,  too  delicate  to  investigate  further, 
he  only  asked :  "And  you  do  not  want  to  proclaim 
yourself  the  son  of  your  father,  not  a  Falkenried? 
Every  Prussian  regiment  would  be  open  to  you 
then." 

"No,  they  would  be  closed  to  me  forever.  I  fled 
from  the  cadets'  school  ten  years  ago." 

"Hartmut!"  Absolute  terror  was  in  the  ex- 
clamation. 

"Do  you  also,  like  my  father,  consider  me  worthy 
of  death  for  it  ?  You,  of  course,  have  grown  up  in 
freedom  and  have  no  conception  of  the  iron  rule 
which  reigns  in  these  institutions;  of  the  tyranny 
with  which  one  is  bent  under  the  yoke  of  blind 
obedience.  I  could  not  stand  it.  I  was  forced  to 
freedom  and  light.  I  begged — entreated  my  father 
— but  in  vain.  He  held  me  fast  in  the  chain — when 
I  broke  it,  and  fled  with  my  mother." 

He  uttered  this,  all  with  wild,  desperate  defiance ; 
but  his  eyes  rested  anxiously  upon  the  face  of  his 
listener.  His  father,  with  his  severe  ideas  of  honor, 
had  sentenced  him;  but  his  friend,  who  idolized 
him,  who  in  passionate  enthusiasm  admired  his 
genius  and  all  that  he  did — he  must  understand  the 
necessity  of  his  step.  But  this  friend  was  silent, 
and  in  this  silence  lay  the  sentence. 


CHAPTER  XLIX. 

"You  too,  Egon?" 

In  the  tone  of  the  questioner  who  waited  several 
minutes  in  vain  for  an  answer,  there  lay  deep  bitter- 
ness. "And  you  too,  Egon,  who  have  so  often  told 
me  that  nothing  should  hamper  the  flight  of  the 
poet;  that  he  must  break  the  fetters  which  would 
hold  him  to  the  ground.  I  did  that  —  and  you 
would  have  done  the  same." 

The  Prince  drew  himself  up  with  the  firmness  'of 
decision. 

"No,  Hartmut;  you  are  mistaken  there.  Per- 
haps I  should  have  fled  from  a  strict  school,  but 
from  the  colors — never !" 

Here  it  was  again — the  harsh  words  which  he 
had  already  heard  once  before — "fled  from  the  col- 
ors." It  forced  the  blood  to  his  brow  again. 

"Why  did  you  not  become  an  officer?"  continued 
Egon.  "You  could  have  become  one  early  at  your 
home;  you  could  have  taken  your  leave  then  at  an 
age  when  life  only  commences.  Then  you  would 
have  been  free — honorably." 

Hartmut  was  silent.  His  father  had  told  him 
the  same,  but  he  had  not  wanted  to  wait  and  submit 
himself  to  rules.  A  barrier  had  stood  in  his  way, 
and  he  simply  threw  it  down  unconcernedly.  But 
he  threw  down  duty  and  honor  with  it. 

"You  do  not  know  all  that  stormed  upon  me  at 
that  time,"  he  replied,  heavily.  "My  mother — I 

352 


THE    SIGN   OF   FLAME.  353 

do  not  wish  to  accuse  her — but  she  has  been  my 
doom.  My  father  had  separated  from  her  in  early 
life.  I  thought  her  dead,  when  suddenly  she  en- 
tered my  life  and  snatched  me  to  her  with  her  burn- 
ing mother  love — with  her  promise  of  freedom  and 
happiness.  She  alone  is  responsible  for  that  unfor- 
tunate breaking  of  my  word " 

"What  word?"  interrupted  Egon,  excitedly. 
"Had  you  sworn  to  the  standard?" 

"No,  but  I  had  given  my  father  my  word  to  re- 
turn when  he  allowed  me  the  last  conversation  with 
my  mother " 

"Instead  of  which  you  fled  with  her?" 

"Yes." 

The  answer  was  almost  inaudible  and  was  fol- 
lowed by  a  long  pause.  The  Prince  spoke  never  a 
word;  but  in  his  open,  sunny  face  deep,  bitter  pain 
was  depicted — the  bitterest  of  his  life,  for  at  this 
moment  he  lost  his  so  passionately  loved  friend. 

At  last  Hartmut  resumed,  but  he  did  not  raise  his 
eyes.  "You  understand  now  why  I  want  to  force 
an  entrance  into  the  army  at  any  price.  Now  that 
war  has  broken  out,  the  man  can  atone  for  the  boy's 
sin.  Therefore  I  left  Sicily  immediately  after  the 
first  threatening  news,  and  flew  as  in  a  storm  to 
Germany.  I  hoped  to  be  able  to  hasten  to  arms.  I 
had  no  idea  of  all  the  difficulties  and  hindrances 
which  would  be  put  in  my  way.  But  you  can  put 
them  aside,  if  you  intercede  for  me." 

"No,  I  cannot  do  that,"  said  Egon,  coldly. 
"After  what  I  have  heard  just  now,  this  is  impos- 
sible." 

Hartmut  turned  deathly  white  and  stepped  up 
close  to  Egon  with  a  vehement  gesture. 

"You  cannot?    That  means — you  will  nqt?" 


354  THE    SIGN    OF   FLAME. 

The  Prince  was  silent. 

"Egon !"  Wild,  stormy  entreaty  was  in  the  tone. 
"You  know  I  have  never  made  a  request  of  you — 
this  is  the  first  and  last  one.  But  now  I  beg — en- 
treat you  for  this  friendly  service.  It  is  the  relief 
from  the  doom  which  has  hung  over  me  since  that 
hour.  The  reconciliation  with  my  father — the 
reconciliation  with  myself — you  must  help  me!" 

"I  cannot,"  repeated  the  Prince.  "The  rejection 
to  which  you  have  been  subjected  may  hurt  you 
deeply — I  believe  it — but  it  is  only  just.  You  have 
broken  with  your  fatherland — with  your  duties — 
and  that  cannot  be  mended  so  easily  without  any- 
thing further,  when  one  has  become  of  a  different 
opinion.  You  fled  from  the  service  of  our  standard 
— you,  the  son  of  an  officer!  Now  the  army  is 
closed  to  you,  and  you  must  bear  it." 

"And  you  tell  me  that  so  calmly  —  so  coldly!" 
cried  Hartmut,  beside  himself.  "Do  you  not  see 
that  it  is  a  question  of  life  or  death  to  me?  I  saw 
my  father  again  that  day  at  Rodeck,  when  he  hast- 
ened to  the  deathbed  of  Wallmoden.  He  crushed 
me  with  his  contempt  —  with  the  awful  words  he 
threw  into  my  face.  It  was  that  which  drove  me 
away  from  Germany,  which  chased  me  ceaselessly 
from  place  to  place.  His  words  went  with  me  and 
made  life  a  hell  to  me.  I  have  greeted  the  war  cry 
as  a  deliverance.  I  want  to  fight  for  the  fatherland 
which  I  once  cast  from  me,  and  now  the  door  which 
is  open  to  every  one  is  closed  to  me  alone.  Egon, 
you  turn  from  me !  Oh — there  is  only  one  way  left 
forme!" 

With  a  sudden,  passionate  motion  he  turned  to 
the  table,  where  the  Prince's  pistols  were  lying;  but 
the  Prince  sprang  at  him  and  tore  him  back. 


THE   SIGN   OP   FLAME.  355 

"Hartmut,  are  you  out  of  your  senses?" 

"Perhaps  I  shall  be  so.  All  of  you  torture  me 
beyond  endurance." 

Boundless  despair  lay  in  those  words. 

Egon,  too,  had  turned  pale,  and  his  voice  trem- 
bled as  he  said :  "Before  it  goes  so  far — I  will  try  to 
find  an  opening  in  a  regiment  for  you." 

"At  last !     I  thank  you." 

"However,  I  cannot  promise  you  anything,  for 
the  Duke  has  to  be  put  altogether  aside  now.  Be- 
sides, he  leaves  to-morrow  for  the  battlefield. 
Should  he  learn  later  on  that  you  serve  in  his  corps, 
we  shall  then  be  in  the  midst  of  the  storm  of  war, 
and  one  does  not  ask  'How'  and  'Why'  in  the  face 
of  a  completed  fact.  But  it  may  take  days  before 
the  decision  arrives.  Will  you  be  my  guest?" 

Formerly  the  Prince  would  have  accepted  that  as 
only  natural  and  would  have  been  exasperated  if 
his  friend  had  refused;  now  he  made  the  inquiry, 
and  Hartmut  felt  what  lay  in  the  cold  question. 

"No,  I  shall  not  remain  in  town,"  he  replied.  "I 
shall  go  to  the  Forester  at  Rodeck,  and  I  beg  that 
you  will  send  your  answer  there.  I  can  return  here 
in  a  few  hours." 

"As  you  wish.  Then  you  will  not  go  to  the 
castle?" 

Hartmut  gazed  at  him  with  a  long,  sad  look. 

"No;  to  the  Forester's.     Farewell,  Egon." 

"Farewell." 

They  parted  without  a  pressure  of  the  hand,  with- 
out a  further  word,  and  when  the  door  closed  be- 
hind him,  Hartmut  knew  that  he  had  lost  the  friend 
who  had  idolized  him.  Judged  here,  too — and  cast 
out !  He  had  to  atone  terribly  for  the  old  guilt. 


CHAPTER  L. 

OVER  the  Wald  hung  a  dark,  cloudy  «ky,  which, 
from  time  to  time,  sent  down  showers  of  rain. 
Gray  mists  clung  around  the  heights,  and  storms 
raged  through  the  crowns  of  the  trees.  It  was  a 
regular  autumn  day  in  the  middle  of  summer. 

The  mistress  of  Ostwalden  was  alone  at  her 
castle.  She  had  received  news  from  her  brother 
that  he  had  already  left,  and  that  the  meeting 
planned  between  them  could  not  take  place.  There- 
fore Adelaide  had  postponed  her  departure  to  be 
present  at  the  marriage  of  Willibald  and  Marietta, 
which  was  quietly  celebrated  in  the  presence  of  the 
nearest  relatives. 

The  young  couple  had  left  for  Berlin,  where  Wil- 
libald was  to  join  his  regiment  immediately.  His 
young  wife  wished  to  remain  near  him  the  few  days 
before  the  order  came  to  march.  From  there  she 
was  to  go  to  Burgsdorf,  whither  her  mother-in-law 
had  preceded  her. 

The  morning  hours  had  not  yet  passed  when 
Prince  Adelsberg  drove  up  to  the  castle  of  Ostwal- 
den. He  had  asked  for  leave  of  absence  to-day  to 
"arrange  some  important  matters";  but  the  im- 
portant matters  did  not  carry  him  to  Rodeck, 
but  to  Ostwalden.  He  came  to  say  farewell  to 
Adelaide,  whom  he  had  not  seen  since  that  first 
visit. 

As  his  carriage  entered  the  castle  yard,  they  met 

356 


THE    SIGN   OF   FLAME.  357 

the  priest  of  the  neighboring  village  with  the  holy 
sacrament,  and  attendant  chorister.  Apparently 
the  last  rites  had  been  administered  to  one  seriously 
ill.  The  Prince  inquired  to  whom  the  sad  visit  had 
been  paid,  and  learned  that  it  was  to  one  of  the  in- 
spectors of  the  estate,  and  that  the  mistress  of  the 
castle  was  at  present  with  the  dying  man;  but  the 
guest  should  be  announced  to  her  instantly. 

Egon  restlessly  paced  up  and  down  the  reception 
room,  into  which  he  had  been  shown.  He  had 
come  here  to  obtain  an  assurance,  without  which  he 
did  not  feel  able  to  march  into  a  campaign  of  life  or 
death;  and  the  uncertainty  with  which  such  a  cam- 
paign was  ever  taken,  must  serve  as  apology  for 
thus  approaching  a  young  widow  still  in  deep 
mourning.  It  need  not  yet  be  a  proposal.  He 
wanted  to  take  with  him  only  a  hope — the  promise 
of  which  had  risen  so  brightly  at  their  last  meeting, 
when  Adelaide  had  shown  such  warm  interest  in  his 
sorrow  about  his  absent  friend.  He  did  not  dream 
that  he  had  made  a  fatal  mistake.  Still,  in  spite  of 
this,  a  deep  shadow  rested  upon  the  face  of  the 
Prince,  usually  so  cheerful.  It  was  not  the  leave- 
taking  which  gave  him  pain,  for  he  went  to  the  bat- 
tlefield with  glowing  enthusiasm  and  the  happy 
faith  of  youth,  which  dreams  only  of  victory,  and 
rejects  all  dark  prospects.  Besides,  he  dreamed  of 
another  happiness  in  the  future,  which  he  wished  to 
secure  now. 

The  door  opened  to  admit  Frau  von  Wallmoden. 

"I  beg  your  pardon  for  detaining  you  so  long, 
Your  Highness,"  she  said,  after  the  first  greetings. 
"It  was  probably  told  you  that  I  was  beside  a  death- 
bed?" 

"I  learned  so  upon  my  arrival,"  replied  Egon, 


358  THE   SIGN    OF   FLAME. 

who  had  hastened  to  meet  her.  "Is  the  case  really 
so  serious?" 

"Alas,  yes !  poor  Tanner !  He  used  to  be  tutor  in 
a  family  in  the  neighborhood,  but  had  to  give  up  his 
position  on  account  of  a  serious  illness.  At  the  re- 
quest of  the  Chief  Forester,  I  gave  him  employment 
in  cataloguing  my  husband's  library,  which  had  been 
sent  to  Ostwalden,  and  it  was  hoped  that  he  would 
quite  recover  in  the  easy  office  and  the  invigorating 
forest  air.  He  was  so  grateful  for  it,  and  told  me 
only  yesterday  how  happy  his  mother  was  that  he 
should  be  excused  from  military  service,  on  account 
of  not  being  yet  quite  well.  But  suddenly  this 
morning  he  had  a  hemorrhage,  and  the  physician 
tells  me  that  he  can  live  but  an  hour  longer.  It  is 
awful  to  see  a  young  life  bleed  to  death  like  that !" 

"And  yet  this  will  happen  to  thousands  in  the 
next  few  weeks,"  said  Egon,  gravely.  "Have  you 
been  with  the  poor  man?" 

"Yes,  at  his  request.  He  knew  how  it  was  with 
him,  and  wished  to  lay  a  prayer  upon  my  heart  for 
his  old  mother,  who  loses  in  him  her  only  support. 
I  have  calmed  his  mind  on  that  subject,  but  it  was 
all  I  could  do  for  him " 

One  could  see  how  deeply  the  scene  at  the  death- 
bed had  impressed  the  young  widow,  and  Egon,  too, 
felt  deep  compassion  at  the  narrative. 

"I  come  to  say  farewell,"  he  said,  after  a  short 
pause.  "We  march  the  day  after  to-morrow,  and 
I  could  not  deny  myself  a  visit  to  you  once  more. 
I  am  happy  to  have  found  you  here,  as  I  understand 
you  intend  leaving  soon." 

"Yes,  for  Berlin.  Lonely  Ostwalden  is  so  far 
remote,  and  in  this  time  of  feverish  expectation  one 
wishes  to  be  as  near  the  centre  of  communications 


THE    SIGN    OF   FLAME.  359 

and  connections  as  possible.  I  am  anxious  about 
my  brother,  who  has  joined  the  standard." 

Again  a  pause  ensued,  and  the  Prince  was  about 
to  break  it  with  expression  of  what  lay  so  near  his 
heart,  when  Frau  von  Wallmoden  anticipated  him 
with  a  question,  asked  with  apparent  indifference, 
but  in  a  voice  which  trembled  slightly : 

"You  were  in  much  anxiety  about  the  non-arrival 
of  news  of  your  friend  at  your  last  visit,  Your 
Highness.  Have  you  heard  from  him  yet?" 

Egon's  eyes  fell,  and  the  shadow  which  had  been 
dispelled  during  the  conversation  returned,  heavily 
and  gloomily,  to  his  face. 

"Yes,"  he  replied,  coldly.  "Rojanow  is  back  in 
Germany." 

"Since  the  declaration  of  war?" 

"Yes,  he  came " 

"To  join  the  army!     Oh,  I  knew  it!" 

The  Prince  looked  at  her  amazed. 

"You  knew  it,  Your  Excellency?  I  thought  you 
had  known  Hartmut  as  a  Roumanian  only,  and 
through  me." 

A  deep  blush  suffused  the  cheeks  of  the  young 
Frau  von  Wallmoden.  She  felt  the  exclamation 
had  been  a  betrayal,  but  she  quickly  regained  com- 
posure. "I  became  acquainted  with  Herr  Rojanow 
last  fall,  when  he  was  your  guest  at  Rodeck,"  she 
answered,  composedly;  "but  I  have  known  his 

father  for  long  years,  and  he I  suppose  your 

Highness  knows  all  that  has  happened?" 

"Yes,  I  know  it  now,"  said  Egon,  with  heavy 
emphasis. 

"Colonel  Falkenried  was  a  near  friend  of  my 
father's  and  visited  our  house  frequently,  although 
I  had  never  heard  of  his  son.  I  had  considered  the 


360  THE    SIGN   OF   FLAME. 

Colonel  childless  until  that  awful  hour  at  Rodeck, 
the  day  my  husband  died.  Then  I  learned  the 
truth,  and  was  a  witness  of  a  meeting  between 
father  and  son." 

The  Prince  breathed  a  sigh  of  relief  at  this  ex- 
planation, which  dispelled  the  disastrous  thought 
'  just  dawning  upon  him. 

"I  understand  your  concern,  then,"  he  replied. 
"Colonel  Falkenried  is,  indeed,  to  be  pitied." 

"He  only?"  asked  Adelaide,  struck  by  the  harsh 
tone  of  the  last  words.  "And  your  friend?" 

"I  have  no  friend — I  have  lost  him !"  cried  Egon, 
with  passionate  pain.  "What  he  confessed  to  me 
two  days  ago  opened  an  abyss  between  us,  and  what 
I  know  now  parts  us  forever." 

"You  judge  the  misdemeanor  of  a  seventeen- 
year-old  lad  very  severely.  He  must  have  been 
only  a  boy  then." 

A  deep  reproach  lay  in  the  words  of  the  young 
widow;  but  the  Prince  shook  his  head  vehemently. 

"I  do  not  speak  of  that  flight  and  that  breaking 
of  his  word,  although  they  weigh  heavily  with  the 
son  of  an  officer.  But  what  I  heard  yesterday — I 
see  you  do  not  yet  know  the  worst,  gracious  lady, 
and  how  should  you?  Spare  me  this  report." 

Adelaide  had  turned  pale,  and  her  eyes,  full  of 
fear,  hung  fixed  upon  the  speaker. 


CHAPTER  LI. 

"I  BEG  of  Your  Highness,"  Adelaide  commenced 
again,  "to  tell  me  the  truth — the  whole  truth.  You 
said  that  Herr  Rojanow  had  returned  to  join  the 
army.  I  had  thought  he  would — had  expected  it 
— for  it  is  the  only  thing  by  which  he  can  atone  for 
his  old  guilt.  Has  he  joined  the  standard  already?" 

"Happily  it  has  not  gone  so  far,  and  that  has 
spared  me  a  heavy  responsibility,"  said  Egon,  with 
supreme  bitterness.  "He  reported  to  several  regi- 
ments, but  was  refused  everywhere." 

"Refused!     But  why?" 

"Because  he  did  not  dare  to  confess  himself  a 
German,  and  because  a  very  just  suspicion  was 
raised  toward  the  strange  Roumanian.  One  has  to 
be  cautious  at  the  present  time  that  no — spies  may 
force  their  way  into  the  ranks  of  our  armies." 

"For  God's  sake,  what  do  you  mean?"  cried  Ade- 
laide, who  began  now  to  comprehend  the  situation. 

Egon  sprang  up  in  great  excitement  and  drew 
nearer. 

"If  you  wish,  then,  to  know  it,  gracious  lady — 
listen.  Hartmut  came  to  me  and  requested  me  to 
use  my  influence  to  make  the  entrance  into  one  of 
our  regiments  possible  to  him.  I  refused  at  first, 
but  he  forced  me  to  consent  by  a  threat  which  was 
hardly  meant  seriously.  I  kept  my  word  and  asked 
one  of  our  higher  officers,  whose  brother  was  secre- 
tary to  our  embassy  at  Paris±  and  who  had  just  re- 

361 


362  THE    SIGN   OF    FLAME. 

turned  from  there  with  him.  This  gentleman  was 
present  at  our  interview.  He  heard  the  name,  Ro- 
janow — inquired  further  into  the  matter  and  gave 
me  disclosures ;  I  cannot  repeat  them.  I  have  loved 
Hartmut  as  I  have  nothing  else  upon  this  earth — 
have  almost  idolized  him.  I  let  myself  be  carried 
away  by  the  force  of  his  genius,  and  now  I  learn 
that  the  friend  who  was  everything  to  me  is  a  mon- 
ster; that  he  and  his  mother  did  service  as  spies  at 
Paris.  Perhaps  he  wished  to  do  the  same  in  our 
army !" 

He  covered  his  eyes  with  his  hand,  and  there  was 
something  awful  in  the  agony  of  the  young  man 
whose  idol  had  been  so  ruthlessly  shattered. 

Adelaide  had  risen,  and  the  hand  with  which  she 
leaned  upon  the  back  of  the  chair  trembled. 

"And  what  have  you — has  he — answered  to 
that?" 

"Do  you  mean  Rojanow?  I  have  not  seen  him 
since  and  shall  not  see  him  again.  I  shall  spare 
myself  and  him  that  much.  He  is  now  at  the  for- 
estry at  Rodeck  and  awaits  my  answer  there.  I 
have  notified  him  in  three  lines  of  what  I  learned, 
without  adding  a  remark  or  a  word.  He  has  prob- 
ably received  the  letter  and  will  understand  it  suffi- 
ciently." 

"Good  God!  that  will  drive  him  to  his  death," 
Adelaide  burst  forth.  "How  could  you  do  it !  How 
could  you  judge  the  unfortunate  one  without  hear- 
ing him !" 

"The  unfortunate  one!"  repeated  the  Prince  cut- 
tingly. "Do  you  really  consider  him  that?" 

"Yes,  for  I  do  not  hear  these  awful  accusations 
for  the  first  time.  His  father  cast  them  in  his  face 
at  that  meeting." 


THE    SIGN   OF   FLAME.  363 

"Well,  if  even  his  own  father  accuses  him '*' 

"The  deeply  offended,  deeply  embittered  man! 
He  cannot  have  an  unbiased  judgment,  but  you — 
the  friend  of  Hartmut — you,  who  stood  so  near 
him — you  ought  to  have  stepped  in  and  defended 
him." 

Egon  looked  with  questioning  surprise  upon  the 
excited  lady. 

"You  appear  to  wish  to  do  so  now,  Your  Excel- 
lency," he  said  slowly.  "I  cannot  do  it,  for  there  is 
too  much  in  Hartmut's  life  which  confirms  the  sus- 
picion. It  explains  everything  to  me  that  has  hith- 
erto seemed  mysterious.  These  are  quite  decided 
facts  upon  which  the  accusation  is  based " 

"Against  the  mother!  She  has  ever  been  the 
doom — the  ruin — of  her  son;  but  he  did  not  know 
the  shameful  work  to  which  she  had  fallen ;  he  lived 
at  her  side  ignorant  of  it.  I  saw  how  he  broke 
down  when  his  father  uttered  the  awful  words — 
how  he  struggled  against  it  as  in  a  death  struggle. 
That  was  truth — that  was  the  despair  of  a  man  who 
is  being  punished  more  deeply  than  he  has  trans- 
gressed. That  flight — that  breaking  of  his  word 
— robs  him  now  of  the  faith  of  those  who  stand 
nearest  to  him.  But  if  his  father  and  his  friend 
both  so  judge  him — /  believe  in  him!  It  is  not 
true!  He  is  not  guilty!" 

She  had  drawn  herself  fully  erect  in  her  stormy 
excitement.  Her  cheeks  glowed ;  her  eyes  sparkled, 
and  her  tone  and  words  contained  that  convincing 
passion  which  only  love  knows  when  defending  the 
loved  one. 

Egon  stoo$  there  transfixed  and  looked  at  her. 
There  it  was — the  awakening,  of  which  he  had  often 
dreamed,  Fire  and  life  glowed  there,  now — a 


364  THE    SIGN    OF   FLAME. 

blooming  world  arose  from  the  ice;  but  it  was  an- 
other who  had  called  it  forth. 

"I  do  not  dare  to  decide  as  to  whether  you  are 
right,  gracious  lady,"  said  the  Prince  in  a  toneless 
voice,  after  a  brief  silence.  "I  only  know  one  thing. 
Whether  Hartmut  be  guilty  or  not,  he  is  enviable  in 
this  hour." 

Adelaide  shrank  back;  she  understood  the  hint 
and  lowered  her  head  mutely  before  the  reproach- 
ful glance. 

"I  came  to  say  farewell,"  continued  Egon.  "I 
intended  to  add  a  question — a  prayer — to  this  leave- 
taking,  but  that  is  over  now.  I  have  only  to  bid  you 
farewell." 

Adelaide  raised  her  eyes,  in  which  hot  tears  glis- 
tened, and  offered  her  hand. 

"Farewell,  and  may  God  take  you  in  His  care 
and  keeping  during  the  campaign!" 

But  Prince  Adelsberg  shook  his  head  silently. 

"What  shall  I  do  with  life?"  he  finally  cried  in 
overwhelming  sorrow.  "I  should  like  best — no,  do 
not  look  at  me  so  entreatingly !  I  know  now  that 
I  made  a  fatal  mistake,  and  I  will  not  torture  you 
with  a  confession;  but,  Adelaide,  I  would  gladly 
die  could  I  buy  with  death  the  look  and  tone  you 
had  just  now  for  another.  Farewell !" 

Once  more  he  pressed  her  hand  to  his  lips,  then 
hastened  away. 


CHAPTER  LII. 

THE  storm  had  increased  in  violence  during  the 
afternoon.  It  roamed  in  the  forest,  dashed  among' 
the  open  heights  and  chased  the  clouds  over  the  sky 
with  increasing  wrath.  It  raged  with  full  force 
around  that  forest  height  which  had  once  witnessed 
such  a  significant  encounter  between  two  people,  but 
the  man  who  leaned  there  now  alone  and  lonely  at 
the  trunk  of  a  tree  did  not  seem  to  feel  it,  for  he 
stood  immovable  in  the  midst  of  it. 

Hartmut's  face  was  deathly  pale;  a  stony,  un- 
natural calm  rested  upon  it,  and  the  sparkle  of  the 
eyes  had  died  out,  while  the  hair  fell  heavy  and 
damp  over  his  brow.  The  storm  had  torn  his  hat 
from  his  head ;  he  had  noticed  it  as  little  as  the  rain 
which  drenched  him. 

He  had  found  himself  at  this  place  after  hours  of 
roaming  through  the  forest — here,  where  a  remem- 
brance drew  him  unconsciously.  It  was  the  right 
place  for  his  purpose. 

The  news  which  had  been  looked  for  so  feverishly 
had  finally  come ;  no  letter ;  nothing  but  a  few  lines 
without  any  preface,  and  with  only  the  signature, 
"Egon — Prince  Adelsberg."  But  in  these  lines 
there  lay  annihilation  for  him  who  received  them. 
Cast  out  forever — judged  by  his  friend  without  a 
hearing!  Doom  had  awfully  fulfilled  itself  in  the 
son  of  Zalika. 

The  crashing'  of  a.  huge  limb  which  broke  under 

366 


366  THE   SIGN    OF   FLAME. 

the  pressure  of  the  storm  and  fell  whizzing  to  the 
ground,  aroused  Hartmut  from  his  despairing  rev- 
ery.  He  had  not  even  started  at  the  crash,  but 
slowly  turned  his  glance  to  the  heavy  mass  which 
fell  close  to  him.  A  foot  nearer  and  it  would  have 
struck  him — would  perhaps  have  made  an  end  of  all 
the  shame  and  torture  in  one  moment;  but  death 
was  not  made  so  easy  for  him.  That  blessing  came 
to  him  only  wh6  loved  life — he  who  wished  to 
throw  it  away  must  do  so  with  his  own  hand. 

Hartmut  took  the  gun  from  his  shoulder  and  put 
the  butt  to  the  ground;  then  he  laid  his  hand  upon 
his  breast  to  find  the  right  place.  Once  more  he 
glanced  up  to  the  veiled  skies  with  their  scudding 
masses  of  clouds,  and  down  to  the  little  dark  forest 
lake  in  the  deceiving  meadow,  over  which  the  fog 
clustered  as  at  that  time  at  home.  The  beckoning, 
charming  will-o'-the-wisp  had  appeared  to  him 
there ;  he  had  followed  the  flame  of  the  depths,  and 
now  it  drew  him  down  hopelessly;  there  was  no 
further  rising  into  the  heights  where  other,  brighter 
lights  shone.  A  bullet  in  the  heart  and  everything 
would  be  at  an  end. 

He  was  about  to  grasp  the  trigger  when  he  heard 
his  name  called  in  a  tone  of  deadly  anxiety.  A 
slender  figure  in  a  dark  cloak  sprang  toward  him 
from  the  edge  of  the  forest,  and  the  weapon  fell 
from  his  hand,  for  he  gazed  into  the  face  of  Ade- 
laide, who  stood  trembling  before  him. 

Moments  passed  without  a  word  from  either.  It 
was  Hartmut  who  recovered  first. 

"You  here,  gracious  lady?"  he  asked  with  en- 
forced calmness.  "Are  you  out  in  the  forest  in  this 
weather?" 

"I  should  like  to  put  the  same  question  to  you." 


THE   SIGN   OF   FLAME.  36? 

"I  have  been  hunting,  but  the  weather  is  unpro- 
pitious,  and  I  was  about  to  discharge  my  gun " 

He  did  not  finish,  for  the  sad,  reproachful  glance 
upon  him  told  that  the  lie  was  in  vain.  He  broke 
off  and  looked  gloomily  before  him.  Adelaide,  tod, 
gave  up  all  pretense,  and  in  her  voice  all  her  anxiety 
trembled  as  she  cried :  "Herr  von  Falkenried,  what 
did  you  intend  to  do?" 

"What  would  have  now  been  done  had  you  not 
interfered,"  said  Hartmut,  harshly.  "And  believe 
me,  gracious  lady,  it  would  have  been  better  if  coin- 
cidence had  brought  you  here  a  few  moments  later." 

"It  was  no  coincidence.  I  was  at  the  forestry  at 
Rodeck,  and  heard  that  you  had  been  gone  for 
hours.  An  awful  presentiment  drove  me  to  look  for 
you  here.  I  was  almost  sure  I  should  find  you 
here." 

"You  looked  for  me?  Me,  Ada?"  His  voice 
shook  at  the  question.  "How  did  you  know  that  I 
was  at  the  forestry?" 

"Through  Prince  Adelsberg,  who  called  to  see  me 
this  morning.  You  received  a  letter  from  him?" 

"No,  only  a  communication,"  returned  Hartmut 
with  quivering  lips.  "No  single  word  was  directed 
to  me  personally  in  the  short  lines;  they  brought 
only  a  communication  in  a  business  tone  which  the 
Prince  thought  necessary.  I  fully  understood  it." 

Adelaide  was  silent;  she  had  known  it  would 
drive  him  to  suicide.  Slowly  she  walked  with  him 
under  the  protection  of  the  trees,  for  it  was  hardly 
possible  to  keep  erect  out  in  the  open  space  in  this 
raging  storm,  but  Hartmut  did  not  seem  to  feel  it. 

"You  know  the  contents  of  the  communication — 
I  see  that  you  "do,"  he  commenced  again,  "and  it  is 
not  new  to  you,  either.  You  overheard  what  hap- 


368  THE   SIGN   OF   FLAME. 

pened  that  night  at  Rodeck,  but  believe  me,  Ada, 
what  I  felt  at  that  moment  when  you  stood  before 
me  in  that  ghostly  glow  which  shone  through  that 
night,  and  it  grew  clear  to  me  that  I  had  been 
ground  into  the  dust  before  you — what  I  felt  might 
have  satisfied  even  my  father's  vengeance,  might 
have  atoned  for  all  my  sin." 

"You  do  him  wrong,"  replied  the  young  widow 
solemnly.  "You  saw  him  only  in  the  stern,  iron 
inflexibility  with  which  he  cast  you  from  him.  I 
saw  him  differently  after  you  had  gone.  He  broke 
down  there  in  wild  anguish;  he  then  let  me  look 
into  the  heart  of  a  despairing  father  who  loved  his 
son  above  everything.  Have  you  not  made  an  at- 
tempt since  then  to  convince  him?" 

"No ;  he  would  believe  me  as  little  as  Egon  does. 
He  who  has  once  broken  his  word,  has  lost  forever 
their  faith,  even  if  he  would  regain  it  with  his  life. 
Perhaps  my  death  upon  the  battlefield  would  have 
enlightened  them,  but  when  I  fall  now  by  my  own 
hand  they  will  see  in  it  only  the  deed  of  a  despair- 
ing man — a  guilty  one — and  will  despise  me  even 
in  my  grave." 

"Not  everybody  will  do  that,"  said  Adelaide  low- 
ly. "I  believe  in  you,  Hartmut,  in  spite  of  every- 
thing." 

He  looked  at  her,  and  through  the  gloomy  hope- 
lessness of  his  soul  there  flamed  something  of  the 
old  fire. 

"You,  Ada?  And  you  tell  me  that  upon  this  spot 
where  you  cast  me  off?  You  did  not  know  any- 
thing about  me  then " 

"And  for  that  reason  I  shuddered  before  the  man 
to  whom  nothing  was  sacred — who  recognized  no 
law  but  his  will  and  his  passions;  but  that  winter 


THE    SIGN   OF   FLAME.  369 

night,  when  I  saw  you  at  your  father's  feet,  showed 
me  that  you  fell  more  through  doom  than  guilt. 
Since  then  I  have  known  that  you  can  and  must  cast 
that  unfortunate  inheritance  from  your  mother  far 
from  you.  Rouse  yourself,  Hartmut.  The  road 
which  I  then  showed  you  is  still  open;  whether  it 
leads  to  life  or  death — it  leads  upward." 

He  shook  his  head  gloomily. 

"No,  that  is  past.  You  have  no  conception  of 
what  my  father  has  done  to  me  with  his  terrible 
words.  What  my  life  has  been  since  then  I — but 
let  me  be  silent  about  it ;  nobody  can  grasp  it ;  but  I 
thank  you  for  your  faith  in  me,  Ada.  Death  is 
made  easier  to  me  through  that  faith." 

The  young  widow  made  a  quick  motion  toward 
the  weapon  which  lay  at  his  feet. 

"For  God's  sake,  no !    You  dare  not  do  that !" 

"What  am  I  to  do  with  life?"  Hartmut  burst 
forth  with  terrible  vehemence.  "My  mother  has 
branded  me  as  with  a  red-hot  iron,  and  this  closes  to 
me  every  way  to  atonement — to  salvation.  I  am 
cast  out  from  the  ranks  of  my  people,  where  even  the 
poorest  peasant  can  fight;  a  privilege  which  is  de- 
nied only  to  the  dishonorable  criminal,  is  denied  also 
to  me,  for  I  am  nothing  else  in  Egon's  eyes.  He 
fears  that  I  might  become  a  traitor — a  spy  to  my 
own  brothers!" 

He  covered  his  face  with  both  hands,  and  the  last 
words  died  in  a  sob;  then  he  felt  a  hand  touch  his 
arm  gently. 

"The  brand  is  extinguished  with  the  name  Ro- 
janow.  Throw  that  from  you,  Hartmut;  I  bring 
you  what  you  tried  in  vain  to  obtain — entrance  into 
the  army!" 

Hartmut  started  and  gazed  at  her  in  unbelief. 


370  THE    SIGN   OF   FLAME. 

"Impossible !    How  could  you " 

"Take  these  papers,"  interrupted  Adelaide,  draw- 
ing forth  a  package.  "They  are  made  out  in  the 
name  of  Joseph  Tanner — 29  years  old,  slender,  with 
dark  complexion,  black  hair  and  eyes — you  see 
everything  will  suit — with  these  nobody  will  refuse 
you  an  entrance  as  a  volunteer." 

She  gave  him  the  papers,  around  which  his  right 
hand  closed  spasmodically  as  upon  the  most  precious 
jewel. 

"And  these  papers?"  he  asked,  still  doubting. 

"Belong  to  a  dead  man.  They  were  given  me 
for  another  purpose,  but  the  deceased  has  no  fur- 
ther use  for  them  and  will  pardon  me  if  with  them 
I  save  a  living  man." 

Hartmut  stormily  opened  the  package.  The  wind 
almost  tore  the  sheets  from  his  hand  and  he  was 
scarcely  able  to  decipher  the  contents  as  the  young 
widow  continued : 

"Joseph  Tanner  had  a  small  office  at  Ostwalden, 
when  seized  with  a  hemorrhage  this  morning.  He 
had  but  a  few  hours  to  live  and  gave  me  his  last 
words  and  mementos  for  his  mother.  The  poor 
woman  shall  receive  everything — every  letter,  every 
scrap  which  can  be  a  solace  to  her,  but  I  have  taken 
the  official  papers — for  you.  We  do  not  rob  any- 
body in  doing  this,  for  they  are  valueless  to  the 
mother  to  whom  they  now  belong.  Perhaps  a  strict 
judge  would  call  that  deceit,  but  I  gladly  shoulder 
the  blame,  and  God  will  pardon  it,  and  so  will  the 
fatherland." 

Hartmut  closed  the  case  and  hid  it  in  his  breast, 
which  heaved  under  a  deep,  deep  breath.  Then  he 
drew  himself  up  and  pushed  the  rain-soaked  locks 
from  the  high  brow,  so  like  his  father's — his  only 


THE   SIGN   OF  FLAME.  371 

inheritance  from  the  Falkenrieds,  but  which  gave 
him  an  unmistakable  resemblance  to  them. 

"You  are  right,  Ada,"  he  said.  "I  cannot  thank 
you  in  words  for  what  you  have  done  for  me.  Words 
have  no  power,  but — I  shall  strive  to  deserve  it." 

"I  know  that.     Farewell  and — auf  iviedersehen!" 

"No,  do  not  wish  that,"  said  Hartmut  gloomily. 
"Death  in  battle  can  exonerate  me  to  myself,  but 
not  to  my  father  or  Egon,  for  they  would  never 
hear  of  it ;  and  if  I  remained  among  the  living  the 
old  stain  would  return;  but  when  I  fall,  tell  them 
who  rests  under  the  foreign  name.  Perhaps  then 
they  will  believe  you  and  remove  the  curse  from  my 
grave." 

"Do  you  want  to  fall?"  asked  Adelaide  with 
plaintive  reproach,  "even  if  I  tell  you  that  you  sad- 
den me  inexpressibly?"' 

"Sadden  you,  Ada !"  he  cried  passionately.  "Do 
you  no  longer  shudder  at  my  love — at  the  fate 
which  drew  us  together?  Oh,  I  might  have  pos- 
sessed the  highest  happiness,  for  you  are — free ;  but 
it  comes  near  to  me  now  for  only  a  fleeting  mo- 
ment, and  vanishes  again  into  unattainable  heights, 
like  the  form  of  the  legend  who  bears  your  name  in 
my  drama.  Nevertheless,  it  has  approached  me, 
and  I  may  be  permitted  for  once  only  to  clasp  it  to 
me  in  farewell." 

He  drew  her  to  him  and  pressed  a  kiss  upon  the 
brow  of  his  love,  who  leaned  against  him  sobbing. 

"Hartmut,  promise  me  that  you  will  not  seek 
death." 

"No ;  but  it  will  know  how  to  find  me.  Farewell, 
my  own  Ada/' 

He  tore  himself  away  hastily.  Adelaide  re- 
mained alone.  The  storm  roared  above  her  headj 


THE    SIGN   OP   FLAME. 

the  giant  crowns  of  the  trees  moaned  and  swayed; 
the  storm  sang  its  wild  song  on  and  on,  but  sud- 
denly over  in  the  west  there  flamed  a  dark-red  rent 
through  the  clouds.  It  was  only  for  a  brief  moment 
— only  one  solitary  ray  of  the  sinking  sun,  but  it 
shiningly  illumined  the  forest  height  and  the  de- 
parting one,  who  turned  once  more  and  sent  back  a 
last  greeting.  Then  the  clouds  massed  together 
again,  and  the  ray  was  extinguished. 


CHAPTER  LIII. 

THE  reddish,  flickering  glow  of  a  wood  fire 
lighted  up  the  interior  of  a  small,  isolated  house 
which  had  formerly  served  as  a  dwelling  to  a  station- 
keeper,  but  was  now  pressed  into  service  for  the 
sentinels  of  the  outpost.  The  room  did  not  bear  an 
expression  of  cosiness  with  its  bare,  smoked  walls, 
low  ceiling  and  small,  barricaded  windows,  but  the 
tremendous  logs  which  flared  and  burned  in  the  un- 
couth stone  fireplace  offered  a  very  welcome  warmth, 
for  it  was  bitterly  cold  out  of  doors,  and  the  whole 
country  was  buried  in  the  snow  of  a  severe  winter. 

The  regiment  here  was  hardly  better  off  than 
their  comrades  before  Paris,  although  they  belonged 
to  the  Southern  army  corps. 

At  present  two  young  officers  were  entering,  and 
the  one  who  still  held  the  door  open  called  laugh- 
ingly to  the  one  preceding:  "Please  bend  down, 
Herr  Comrade,  or  you  might  take  our  door  frame 
along,  for  our  villa  is  in  rather  a  dilapidated  con- 
dition, as  you  see." 

The  warning  was  not  without  need,  for  the  giant 
figure  of  the  guest — a  Prussian  Lieutenant  of  the 
Reserve — was  not  at  all  in  proportion  to  the  door. 
Nevertheless,  he  succeeded  in  entering  safely  and 
looked  around  at  the  four  walls,  while  his  com- 
panion, who  wore  the  uniform  of  a  South  German 
regiment,  continued :  "Permit  me  to  offer  you  a 
seat  in  our  'salon/  which  is  not  so  bad  considering 

373 


THE   SIGN   OF   FLAME. 

the  circumstances.  We  have  already  had  it  worse 
during-  the  campaign.  So  you  are  looking  for 
Stahlberg  ?  He  is  with  my  comrade  out  at  the  post, 
but  will  probably  return  directly.  You  will  have 
to  be  patient  for  a  quarter  of  an  hour." 

"With  pleasure,"  assured  the  Prussian.  "I  see 
from  that  that  Eugene's  injury  is  really  as  slight  as 
he  reported.  I  looked  for  him  in  the  hospital,  and 
heard  that  he  was  making  a  visit  to  the  outposts, 
but  as  we  shall  probably  march  on  by  to-morrow,  I 
did  not  wish  to  let  this  opportunity  pass  by  unim- 
proved, and  therefore  came  to  see  him  now." 

"His  wound  was  indeed  only  slight — a  shot  in  the 
arm,  which  is  already  far  advanced  toward  healing, 
but  will,  nevertheless,  disable  him  for  service  for  a 
short  time.  You  are  a  friend  of  Stahlberg?" 

"Yes,  and  connected  besides  through  the  marriage 
of  his  sister.  I  see  that  you  do  not  remember  me, 
Your  Highness.  Let  me  give  you  my  name — Willi- 
bald  von  Eschenhagen.  We  met  last  year " 

"At  Furstenstein,"  interrupted  Egon  von  Adels- 
berg  quickly.  "Certainly,  now  I  remember  you  per- 
fectly. It  is  remarkable  how  the  uniform  changes 
one ;  I  really  did  not  know  you  at  first." 

He  glanced  with  a  half-admiring  look  at  the  once 
awkward  country  squire  who  had  appeared  so  ridic- 
ulous to  him,  but  who  now  possessed  a  stately,  mili- 
tary appearance. 

It  was  not  the  uniform  alone,  though,  which  had 
changed  Willibald  so  completely.  What  love  had 
begun  the  campaign  had  finished  by  tearing  him 
from  the  accustomed  surroundings  and  circum- 
stances. The  young  Baron  had  not  only,  as  his 
Uncle  Schonan  expressed  it,  "become  a  man,"  but 
had  developed  into  a  true,  genuine  man. 


THE   SIGN   OF   FLAME.  375 

"Our  meeting  at  that  time  was  a  brief  one,"  con- 
tinued the  Prince,  "but  nevertheless  you  will  per- 
mit me  to  offer  my  congratulations?  You  are  be- 
trothed  " 

"1  believe  you  are  under  a  mistake,  Your  High- 
ness," interrupted  Willibald  with  some  embarrass- 
ment. "Although  I  had  been  introduced  to  you  at 
Furstenstein  as  the  future  son-in-law  of  the  house, 
but " 

"That  has  been  changed,"  finished  Egon,  smiling. 
"I  knew  it,  for  the  comrade  of  whom  I  spoke 
just  now  is  Lieutenant  Waldorf,  the  happy  fiance 
of  Baroness  Schonan.  My  words  were  meant  for 
Fraulein"  Marietta  Volkmar." 

"At  present  Frau  von  Eschenhagen." 

"What!    You  are  already  married?" 

"Have  been  for  five  months.  We  were  married 
just  before  marching  orders  came,  and  my  wife  is 
now  at  Burgsdorf  with  my  mother." 

"Then  accept  my  congratulations  on  your  mar- 
riage. But  really,  Herr  Comrade,  I  ought  to  call 
you  to  account  for  the  unwarrantable  damage  you 
have  done  to  art.  Please  tell  your  wife  that,  as  far 
as  I  can  learn  out  here  in  the  campaign,  the  entire 
Residenz  still  mourns  her  loss  in  sackcloth  and 
ashes." 

"I  shall  not  forget  it,  although  I  fear  the  Resi- 
denz has  not  much  time  for  such  mourning  at  pres- 
ent. Ah,  the  gentlemen  are  returning — I  hear  Eu- 
gene's voice." 

Steps  were  heard  outside  and  the  expected  ones 
entered.  Young  Stahlberg  greeted  his  relative  with 
an  exclamation  of  the  most  joyful  surprise.  He 
had  not  seen  Willibald  during  the  campaign,  al- 
though both  served  in  the  same  army  corps.  He 


3?6  THE    SIGN    OP   FLAME. 

still  bore  his  arm  in  a  sling,  but  otherwise  looked 
well  and  happy. 

Eugene  did  not  possess  the  beauty  of  his  sister, 
and  the  feature  of  decided  will-power  which  the 
daughter  had  inherited  from  her  father  was  miss- 
ing. The  son  showed  a  gentle,  more  conciliatory 
nature  in  his  appearance  as  well  as  demeanor,  but 
still  he  resembled  his  sister  closely,  which  might 
have  been  the  cause  of  Prince  Adelsberg's  intimacy 
with  him. 

His  companion,  a  handsome  young  officer  with 
sparkling,  saucy  eyes,  now  approached,  and  the 
Prince  performed  the  introduction. 

"I  will  not  fear  that  the  gentlemen  will  challenge 
each  other  when  I  mention  the  names,"  he  said,  jest- 
ingly. "They  are  obliged  to  be  called — so  then, 
Herr  von  Eschenhagen — Herr  von  Waldorf." 

"God  forbid!  For  my  part  I  am  peace  personi- 
fied," cried  Waldorf  gayly.  "Herr  von  Eschen- 
hagen, I  am  glad  to  meet  the  cousin  of  my  fiancee, 
and  so  much  more  so  because  he  is  already  in  the 
bonds  of  holy  matrimony.  We  also  would  have 
liked  to  do  as  you  did — marry  before  the  march — 
but  my  father-in-law  put  on  his  grimmest  mien  and 
declared,  'Gain  victory  first  and  then  marry.'  Well, 
we  have  done  the  first  continually  for  five  months, 
and  as  soon  as  I  return  home  I  shall  speedily  ask 
for  the  second." 

He  cordially  shook  the  hand  of  his  bride-elect's 
former  fiance,  then  turned  to  the  Prince. 

"We  brought  along  something  for  Your  High- 
ness— something  we  seized  outside.  Orderly  of 
Rodeck,  advance  to  His  Highness — the  Lieutenant, 
Prince  Adelsberg." 

The  door  opened,  and  in  spite  of  the  gathering 


THE    SIGN   OF   FLAME.  37? 

twilight  the  Prince  recognized  the  wrinkled  face  and 
snow-white  hair  of  him  who  entered.  He  started. 

"All  good  spirits  defend  us!  It  is  Peter  Stad- 
inger !" 

It  was,  indeed,  the  live  Stadinger  who  stood  be- 
fore his  young  master.  He  did  not  seem  to  be 
wholly  a  stranger  to  the  others,  for  although  they 
now  saw  him  for  the  first  time,  they  greeted  his  ap- 
pearance with  the  liveliest  joy. 

"Above  everything,  let  us  have  light  to  take  a 
good  look  at  the  'Waldgeist'  of  His  Highness," 
cried  Waldorf,  lighting  candles  and  holding  them 
.with  comical  solemnity  close  before  the  old  man. 

Egon  laughed. 

"You  see,  Stadinger,  what  a  well-known  and  fre- 
quently spoken  of  person  you  are  here.  Now  let 
me  introduce  you  in  proper  form.  Behold  here, 
gentlemen,  Peter  Stadinger — celebrated  for  his  un- 
equaled  churlishness  and  his  moral  lectures,  which 
make  one  quake.  He  probably  thinks  I  cannot  ex- 
ist without  them,  and  he  will  doubtless  give  to  me 
here  also  upon  the  battlefield  the  satisfaction  of  this 
friendly  habit.  I  hope  that  some  of  it  will  fall  upon 
your  heads,  gentlemen — and  now  begin,  Stadinger !" 

But  the  old  man,  instead  of  obeying,  grasped  the 
hand  of  his  master  in  both  of  his  and  said  in  a  heart- 
rending tone :  "Ach,  Your  Highness,  how  we  have 
trembled  and  feared  for  you  at  Rodeck !" 

"Well,  that  is  polite!"  said  Eugene  Stahlberg, 
but  the  Prince  assumed  a  displeased  air. 

"So?  And  you  therefore  took  to  your  legs  speed- 
ily and  left  everything  to  go  topsy-turvy  at  Rodeck. 
I  should  not  have  thought  you  would  neglect  your 
duty  like  that  !*' 

Stadinger  looked  at  him  in  doubting  perplexity. 


378  THE   SIGN   OP   FLAME. 

"But  I  have  come  according  to  orders.  Your 
Highness  has  written  me  to  make  haste  and  come 
and  take  Louis  from  the  hospital — you  would  at- 
tend to  the  travel  and  everything.  I  arrived  this 
noon,  and  found  the  lad  as  well  as  could  be  ex- 
pected. The  doctor  thinks  I  can  take  him  home 
with  me  in  a  week,  for  then  all  danger  would  be 
over.  But  the  kindness  Your  Highness  has  shown 
to  Louis  and  all  the  others  from  Rodeck  who  are  in 
the  army  can  never  be  told.  May  God  reward  you 
a  thousand  times !" 

Egon  withdrew  his  hand  impatiently. 

"It  is  'Herr  Lieutenant'  now,  remember  that.  I 
insist  upon  my  military  title — and  what  does  this 
mean,  now  that  when  I  count  upon  your  churlish- 
ness you  are  meek  as  a  lamb  and  give  us  a  pathetic 
scene!  I  forbid  it!  This  Louis,  gentlemen,  is  a 
grandson  of  this  old  Waldgeist — a  fine,  brave  fel- 
low, but  he  has  a  sister  who  is  much  handsomer.  I 
am  sorry  to  say  this  senseless  grandfather  sends  her 
away  regularly  when  I  go  to  Rodeck.  Why  did 
Lena  not  come  along?  You  should  have  thought  of 
bringing  her." 

This  proved  effective  against  the  meekness  and 
affection,  which  were  as  unusual  as  embarrassing. 

Stadinger  drew  himself  up  rigidly  and  replied 
with  his  usual  terseness:  "I  believed  Your  High- 
ness had  no  time  here  in  the  war  to  think  about 
such  foolishness." 

"Aha,  now  it  is  coming!"  said  the  Prince  under 
his  breath  to  Waldorf,  who  stood  beside  him,  but 
aloud  he  continued :  "That  is  where  you  are  very 
much  mistaken.  A  fellow  gets  uncivilized  in  the 
war,  and  when  I  return  home  again " 

"Then  Your  Highness  has  promised  to  get  mar- 


THE    SIGN   OF   FLAME.  379 

ried  at  last,"  reminded  the  old  man  in  the  most 
emphatic  tone,  which  called  forth  general  laughter 
among  the  young  officers.  Egon  joined  it,  but  his 
laugh  sounded  forced,  just  as  did  his  reply: 

"Yes,  yes;  I  have  promised,  but  I  have  reconsid- 
ered the  matter  in  the  meantime.  I  may  keep  my 
word  in  ten  years  or  perhaps  in  twenty,  but  no 
sooner." 

Stadinger,  who  in  spite  of  the  command  would 
not  have  used  the  title  of  Lieutenant  under  any  con- 
sideration, because  that  would  be  a  humiliation  to 
the  ducal  family  in  his  eyes,  flew  into  a  high  state 
of  indignation  and  gave  free  vent  to  it. 

"If  I  do  not  almost  believe  it !  If  Your  High- 
ness has  really  for  once  a  sensible  thought,  it  does 
not  hold  good  for  twenty-four  hours — and  your 
sacred  father  a  married  man,  too!  Man  has  to 
marry,  anyhow,  and  all  foolishness  stops  of  its  own 
accord  after  marriage." 

"Now  that  he  is  in  the  run  of  it,  gentlemen,  let 
him  moralize  to  you,"  cried  Egon,  and  the  young 
officers,  to  whom  this  was  great  fun,  teased  the 
poor  Stadinger  until  he  lost  all  respect  and  exhib- 
ited himself  in  the  full  halo  of  his  admonitory  na- 
ture. 

Half  an  hour  later  Willibald  and  Eugene  Stahl- 
berg  approached  the  Prince  to  take  leave. 

"You  march  on  by  to-morrow  ?"  he  asked. 

"At  daybreak.  We  march  toward  R ,  where 

Major-General  von  Falkenried  is  stationed  with  his 
brigade,  though  it  will  take  several  days  to  reach 
there,  for  the  whole  country  between  here  and  the 
fortress  is  occupied  by  the  enemy,  and  we  have  to 
clear  our  way." 

"But  tell  the  General,  Willy,  that  I  shall  follow 


380  THE    SIGN    OF   FLAME. 

in  at  least  a  week,"  said  Eugene.  "It  is  bad  enough 
that  I  have  to  remain  behind  so  long  on  account  of  a 
shot  wound  not  worth  mentioning.  Next  week  I 
shall  report  myself  well,  whatever  the  doctor  may 
say,  and  after  that  I  shall  join  my  regiment  without 
delay — I  hope  before  the  capture  of  R " 

"You  must,  indeed,  make  haste  then,"  said  Egon, 
"for  resistance  does  not  last  long  usually  where 
General  Falkenried  stands;  we  have  seen  that  often 
enough.  He  is  always  in  front  with  his  men — al- 
ways the  first  to  storm  a  place,  and  has  already  won 
inconceivable  things.  It  seems  as  if  no  impossibility 
exists  for  him." 

"But  he  has  the  good  luck  to  be  always  put  in  the 
front,"  grumbled  Lieutenant  Waldorf.  "Now  again 

he  is  to  take  R ,  while  we  lie  here,  God  knows 

how  long.  And  he  will  take  possession  of  it — there 
is  no  doubt  of  that — perhaps  he  has  taken  it  already. 
News  reaches  us  only  by  roundabout  ways  so  long 
as  the  enemy  stands  between  us." 

He  arose  to  escort  the  two  gentlemen  out,  while 
the  Prince  remained  behind. 

Standing  before  the  fire  with  folded  arms,  he 
gazed  into  it,  and  his  face  bore  an  expression  not  in 
accordance  with  the  gayety  which  he  had  but  now 
been  showing.  Seriously,  yet  gloomily,  he  looked 
into  the  dancing  flames,  and  the  shadow  would  not 
leave  his  usually  sunny  eyes. 

He  seemed  to  have  forgotten  the  presence  of 
Stadinger,  but  as  the  latter  made  himself  heard  by 
clearing  his  throat,  he  started. 

"Ah,  you  are  still  here?  Remember  me  to  Louis 
and  tell  him  I  will  come  to  see  him  again  to-mor- 
row. We  don't  have  to  say  farewell  yet,  as  you 
remain  here  for  the  present.  You  did  not  think  we 


THE    SIGN   OF   FLAME.  381 

had  such  gay  times  here  ?  Yes,  one  makes  life  easy 
as  possible  when  one  has  to  be  ready  every  day  to 
lose  it." 

The  old  man  stood  before  his  master  and  looked 
sharply  into  his  eyes,  then  he  spoke  half  aloud : 

"Yes,  the  gentlemen  were  gay  and  Your  High- 
ness the  gayest  of  all — but  you  are  not  happy  in 
spite  of  it." 

"I  ?  What  do  you  mean  ?  Why  should  I  not  be 
happy  ?" 

"I  don't  know  that,  but  still  I  see  it,"  insisted 
Stadinger.  "When  Your  Highness  used  to  come 
from  Furstenstein,  or  were  up  to  all  sorts  of  things 
with  Herr  Rojanow,  you  looked  different  and 
laughed  different,  and  just  now  when  you  looked 
into  the  fire  it  seemed  to  me  as  if  Your  Highness 
had  something  very  heavy  upon  your  heart." 

"Get  away  with  all  your  observations!"  cried 
Egon,  to  whom  his  old  Waldgeist  was  again  becom- 
ing uncomfortable.  "Do  you  suppose  we  are  always 
jolly?  I  should  say  that  when  one  has  the  bloody 
battlefield  always  before  the  mind,  earnest  thoughts 
come  near." 

Nothing  could  be  said  to  that,  and  Stadinger  re- 
mained silent,  but  he  could  not  be  deceived.  He 
knew  quite  well  that  something  was  wrong  with  his 
young  master,  and  that  something  was  hidden  be- 
hind this  ostensibly  exhibited  gayety. 


CHAPTER  LIV. 

LIEUTENANT  WALDORF  re-entered  the  room,  but 
left  the  door  open.  "Come  right  in  here,"  he  called 
to  the  man  hesitating  outside.  "Here  is  an  orderly 
from  the  Seventh  Regiment  with  a  report.  Well, 
don't  you  hear,  orderly?  Come  in !" 

The  repetition  of  the  order  sounded  very  impa- 
tient. The  soldier  who  stood  upon  the  threshold 
hesitated  there,  and  had  even  made  a  start  back,  as 
if  he  wished  to  return  to  the  darkness  outside.  He 
now  obeyed,  but  kept  close  to  the  door,  so  that  his 
face  remained  in  the  dusk. 

"Do  you  come  from  the  outposts  at  the  Capellen- 
berg?"  asked  Waldorf. 

"At  your  command,  Herr  Lieutenant." 

Egon,  who  had  turned  indifferently,  started  at  the 
sound  of  that  voice.  He  made  a  hasty  step  for- 
ward, then  stopped  as  if  suddenly  recollecting  him- 
self, but  his  eyes  were  fixed  with  an  almost  terrified 
expression  upon  the  speaker. 

As  far  as  could  be  discerned  in  the  semi-darkness 
he  was  a  tall  young  fellow  in  the  coarse  cloak  of  the 
common  soldier,  with  helmet  upon  his  closely-cut 
hair.  He  stood  there,  rigidly  immovable,  and  de- 
livered his  report  correctly,  but  his  voice  had  a  pecu- 
liarly choked,  hollow  sound. 

"From  Captain  Salfeld,"  he  reported.  "We  have 
seized  a  suspicious  character,  dressed  as  a  peasant, 
but  probably  from  the  French  reserve,  who  tried  to 

382 


THE    SIGN   OF   FLAME.  383 

steal  into  the  fortress.  What  writings  he  had  with 
him " 

"Do  come  nearer,"  commanded  Waldorf,  impa- 
tiently. "We  cannot  half  understand  you." 

The  soldier  obeyed,  drawing  near  to  the  officers. 
The  light  now  fell  full  and  sharp  upon  his  features, 
but  his  face  bore  an  ashy  paleness;  the  teeth  were 
tightly  closed,  and  the  eyes  were  fastened  to  the 
floor. 

Egon's  hand  clutched  the  hilt  of  his  sabre  convul- 
sively, and  only  by  an  effort  he  suppressed  the 
stormy  exclamation  which  was  forced  to  his  lips, 
while  Stadinger,  with  wide-open  eyes,  glared  at  the 
man,  who  now  continued:  "The  writings  which 
he  had  with  him  were  not  of  much  account,  but  con- 
tained hints  which  he  was  probably  to  fill  out  ver- 
bally. The  Captain  thinks  that  if  he  were  strictly 
examined,  more  could  be  learned,  and  asks  now 
whether  he  shall  send  the  prisoner  here  or  to  head- 
quarters." 

The  report  was  neither  surprising  nor  unusual. 
It  often  happened  that  suspicious  people  were  seized. 
The  enemy's  reserve  tried  obstinately  to  obtain  con- 
nection with  the  fortress;  perhaps  they  kept  it  up 
in  spite  of  all  the  watchfulness  of  the  besiegers: 
but  Prince  Adelsberg  seemed  to  have  to  struggle  for 
breath  before  he  could  give  the  answer. 

"I  beg  the  Captain  to  send  the  prisoner  here.  We 
shall  be  relieved  in  two  hours  and  then  we  march 
straight  to  headquarters.  I  shall  attend  to  the  fel- 
low." 

"I  hope  he  can  be  made  to  speak  when  he  is  seri- 
ously pressed,"  remarked  Waldorf.  "He  would  not 
be  the  first  whose  heart  had  fallen  when  his  position 
became  clear  to  him,  Well,  we  shall  see.." 


384  THE    SIGN   OF   FLAME. 

The  soldier  stood  there  awaiting  his  dismissal; 
not  a  muscle  quivered  in  his  face,  but  neither  did  he 
raise  'his  eyes  from  the  floor.  Egon  had  now  col- 
lected himself,  and,  retaining  the  assumed  igno- 
rance, he  asked  in  the  curt  tone  of  the  superior : 

"Do  you  belong  to  the  Seventh  Regiment?" 

"At  your  command,  Herr  Lieutenant." 

"Your  name?" 

"Joseph  Tanner." 

"Drawn?" 

"No,  volunteer." 

"Since  when  ?" 

"Since  the  3Oth  of  July." 

"You  have  been  in  the  whole  campaign?" 

"Yes,  Herr  Lieutenant." 

"Very  well;  now  take  the  message  to  your  Cap- 
tain." 

The  soldier  saluted,  turned  upon  his  heel  and  left. 

Waldorf,  who  had  been  a  little  surprised  at  the 
examination,  but  had  not  attached  any  importance 
to  it,  looked  after  him,  shrugging  his  shoulders. 

"Those  out  at  the  Capellenberg  have  the  worst 
time  of  it.  No  rest  by  day  or  night ;  taxed  to  the 
utmost,  and  with  all  that  they  are  often  ordered  to 
help  the  pioneer  corps.  The  poor  fellows  work 
there  in  the  hard,  frozen  ground  until  the  sweat  runs 
in  streams  from  their  brows,  and  their  hands  bleed. 
Our  people  surely  are  better  off." 

He  left  the  room  to  appoint  an  orderly  to  guard 
the  expected  prisoner  and  give  him  the  necessary 
instructions;  but  Egon  tore  the  window  open  and 
leaned  out ;  it  seemed  as  if  he  should  suffocate. 

Then  he  heard  Stadinger's  voice  behind  him  in 
subdued  tones,  which  nevertheless  betrayed  the 
greatest  terror. 


THE    SIGN   OF   FLAME.  385 

"Your  Highness." 

"What  is  it?"  Egon  asked  without  turning. 

"Has  not  Your  Highness  seen?" 

"What?" 

"The  orderly  who  was  here  just  now.  That 
was  Herr  Rojanow  as  sure  as  he  lives  and 
breathes." 

Egon  saw  that  presence  of  mind  was  needed  here, 
so  he  turned  around  and  said  coldly :  "I  believe  you 
see  ghosts." 

"But,  Your  Highness " 

"Nonsense !  there  may  be  a  little  resemblance.  I 
noticed  it  myself,  therefore  I  wanted  to  know  the 
name  of  the  man.  You  heard  that  it  was  Joseph 
Tanner." 

"But  still  it  was  the  real  live  Herr  Rojanow," 
cried  the  unshakable  Stadinger,  whose  sharp  eyes 
could  not  be  deceived.  "Only  the  black  locks  were 
gone  and  the  proud,  haughty  manner,  but  it  was  his 
voice." 

"Get  away  from  me  with  your  fancies!"  Egon 
broke  out  angrily.  "You  know  that  Herr  Ro- 
janow is  in  Sicily,  but  here  you  want  to  trace  him  in 
an  orderly  of  the  Seventh  Regiment.  It  is  truly 
worse  than  ridiculous." 

Stadinger  held  his  peace.  It  was,  indeed,  ridic- 
ulous and  impossible,  and  consequently  was  his 
young  Prince  so  ungracious.  He  felt  offended  that 
a  common  soldier  should  be  confounded  with  his 
friend.  And  really  the  haughty  Rojanow,  who 
understood  how  to  command  from  the  very  bot- 
tom of  his  heart,  and  had  often  chased  all  the  ser- 
vants at  Rodeck  helter-skelter  with  his  orders — and 
the  orderly  who  had  been  snubbed  by  Lieutenant 
Waldorf  because  he  did  not  speak  loud  enough-*-. 


386  THE    SIGN    OF   FLAME. 

were  two  ever  so  different  things.  If  only  it  had 
not  been  for  the  voice ! 

"Think,  Your  Highness,"  besought  the  old  man, 
who  was  now  wavering. 

"I  think  that  you  are  an  old  seer  of  spirits,"  said 
Egon  more  mildly.  "Go  into  your  quarters  and 
sleep  away  the  fatigue  of  your  journey,  or  you  will 
be  finding  some  more  resemblances.  Good-night!" 

Stadinger  obeyed  and  took  his  leave.  Fortu- 
nately he  had  not  known  Joseph  Tanner,  who  had 
only  been  at  Ostwalden  a  few  weeks,  and  the  en- 
counter had  put  him  in  such  a  fright  that  the  partly 
concealed  excitement  of  his  master  passed  quite  un- 
noticed by  him.  But  he  clung  to  his  doubts;  the 
thing  was  strange — very  strange. 

When  the  Prince  found  himself  alone  he  began 
to  pace  the  floor  in  violent  excitement.  So!  what 
he  had  refused  his  former  friend  had  been  enforced. 
Joseph  Tanner !  He  plainly  remembered  the  name, 
which  had  been  mentioned  to  him  at  Ostwalden, 
and  he  knew  now  whose  hand  had  opened  for  Hart- 
mut  the  ranks  of  the  army  which  had  been  closed 
to  a  Rojanow. 

What  will  not  the  love  of  a  woman  attain! — a 
woman  who  desires  to  see  her  love  exonerated  at 
any  price.  She  herself  had  sent  him  out  into  dan- 
ger and  death — to  save  him  for  life  and — herself. 
Jealousy  rose  wild  and  hot  in  Egon's  breast  at  the 
thought,  and  with  it  that  awful  suspicion,  not  yet 
overcome,  raised  its  head  again  threateningly.  Did 
Hartmut  really  wish  to  atone  only  in  this  war  ?  Was 
not  his  presence  at  the  outposts  a  danger,  for  which 
one  was  responsible  if  he  kept  it  a  secret  ? 

Then  came  back  to  the  Prince's  mind  the  pale, 
gloomy  face  of  the  man  to-night — the  friend  who 


THE   SIGN   OF   FLAME.  387 

had  once  been  so  dear  to  him,  and  who  must  have 
suffered  agonies  of  torture  at  this  encounter,  far 
exceeding  his  imagination.  He  well  knew  Hart- 
mut's  unbending  pride,  and  this  pride  was  now 
bowed  low  in  the  dust  in  that  subordinate  position 
day  after  day.  He  had  heard  it ;  how  out  there  on 
the  Capellenberg  they  often  worked  so  hard  that  in 
spite  of  the  icy  weather  the  sweat  poured  in  streams 
from  their  brows,  and  their  hands  bled.  This  was 
what  the  spoiled,  famed  Rojanow  was  doing;  the 
man  at  whose  feet  the  whole  town  laid  its  homage 
only  a  year  ago,  and  whom  the  house  of  the  reign- 
ing Prince  had  overwhelmed  with  distinction;  and 
he  was  doing  it  of  his  own  free  will,  when  the  suc- 
cess of  his  poetical  work  afforded  him  the  richest 
revenues.  And  with  it  all,  he  was  the  son  of  Gen- 
eral Falkenried! 

Egon's  breast  rose  under  a  deep  but  relieved 
breath.  This  view  of  it  was  giving  him  back  slowly 
his  lost  faith;  all  torturing  doubts  fled  before  this. 
The  old  sin  of  the  boy  Hartrnut  was  now  being 
atoned  for,  and  the  other  more  awful  sin  was  the 
mother's  alone — not  his. 


CHAPTER  LV. 

IT  was  toward  nine  o'clock  in  the  evening  when 
Prince  Adelsberg  left  his  quarters  to  go  to  the 
Commanding  General.  He  was  not  obeying  an 
official  order,  but  an  invitation,  for  the  General  had 
been  close  friends  with  his  father,  and  had  shown 
paternal  attention  to  the  son  all  during  the  cam- 
paign. 

Egon  would  have  given  much  to  have  been  per- 
mitted to  remain  at  home  to-night,  for  the  encoun- 
ter with  Hartmut  had  shaken  him  to  the  inmost 
heart,  but  the  invitation  of  the  superior  could  not  be 
disregarded,  and  one  could  not  follow  one's  inclina- 
tions in  war-time. 

An  adjutant  met  the  Prince  upon  the  stairs,  seem- 
ing to  be  in  the  greatest  haste,  and  only  dropping  a 
hint  of  bad  news,  which  Prince  Adelsberg  would 
probably  hear  from  the  General.  Egon  mounted 
the  stairs  shaking  his  head. 

The  General  was  alone,  pacing  the  room  in  ap- 
parent excitement  and  with  a  face  which  boded  no 
good. 

"Good  evening,  Prince  Adelsberg,"  he  said,  paus- 
ing in  his  walk  at  the  entrance  of  the  young  officer. 
"I  am  sorry  I  cannot  promise  you  a  pleasant  even- 
ing, but  we  have  received  news  which  will  probably 
ruin  every  pleasure  of  being  together." 

"I  just  heard  a  hint  about  it,"  replied  Egon;  "but 
what  has  happened,  Your  Excellency?  The  dis- 
patches of  to-day  noon  sounded  favorable." 

388 


THE    SIGN   OF   FLAME.  389 

"I  have  had  this  news  but  an  hour.  You  your- 
self delivered  the  suspicious  man  who  had  been 
seized  by  our  outposts  to  headquarters.  Do  you 
know  what  he  had  with  him?" 

''Yes,  for  Captain  Salfeld  sent  the  papers  with  the 
prisoner.  I  was  also  of  the  opinion  that  he  was  to 
complete  the  information  verbally,  as  they  had  been 
carefully  prepared.  They  had  apparently  counted 
upon  the  possibility  of  the  man's  falling  into  our 
hands.  He  would  not  confess  anything,  but  I  knew 
he  would  be  examined  closely  here." 

"Which  has  been  done.  The  man  was  a  coward, 
and  when  he  saw  the  bullet  threatening  him  he  saved 
himself  by  a  confession,  the  truth  of  which  cannot 
be  doubted.  You  remember  that  in  one  of  the  pa- 
pers it  was  mentioned  that  one  could  in  an  extreme 
case  follow  the  heroic  example  of  the  commander 
of  R ?" 

"Yes,  that  is  incomprehensible,  as  the  fortress  is 
on  the  eve  of  surrender.  General  Falkenried  sent 
word  that  he  hopes  to  move  in  by  to-morrow." 

"And  I  fear  he  will  make  his  word  good,"  cried 
the  General.  Egon  looked  at  him  in  amazement. 

"You  fear,  Excellency?" 

"Yes,  for  there  is  a  scoundrelly  scheme — a  be- 
trayal without  example.  They  mean  to  surrender 
the  fortress,  and  when  their  garrison  has  withdrawn 
to  a  safe  distance,  and  our  army  has  moved  in,  they 
intend  to  blow  the  citadel  to  atoms." 

"For  God's  sake!"  shrieked  the  Prince  in  horror. 
"Cannot  General  Falkenried  be  notified?" 

"That  is  the  question.  I  fear  that  it  will  not  be 
possible.  I  Ijave  sent  out  warnings  upon  two  dif- 
ferent routes,  but  our  direct  connection  with  R 

is  cut  off ;  the  enemy  has  the  mountain  passes  in  pos- 


390  THE    SIGN    OF    FLAME. 

session;  the  messengers  will  have  to  make  a  wide 
circuit  and  cannot  arrive  there  in  time." 

Egon  was  silent  in  deepest  consternation.  The 
passes  were,  indeed,  occupied  by  the  hostile  forces. 
Eschenhagen's  regiment  had  been  sent  to  clear  the 
way,  but  that  might  take  several  days. 

"We  have  considered  all  possibilities,"  continued 
the  General,  "but  there  is  no  way  out  of  it — noth- 
ing but  a  slight  hope  that  the  surrender  has  been 
delayed  in  some  way ;  but  Falkenried  is  not  the  man 
to  allow  himself  to  be  kept  waiting.  He  will  hasten 
the  finale  and  then  he  is  lost  with  perhaps  thousands 
with  him." 

He  resumed  his  walk  through  the  room.  One 
could  see  how  the  fate  of  his  endangered  comrades 
went  to  the  heart  of  this  iron  man. 

The  Prince,  too,  stood  helpless,  but  suddenly  a 
thought  flashed  upon  him.  He  drew  himself  up. 

"Your  Excellency." 

"Well?" 

"If  it  should  be  possible  to  send  a  dispatch  over 
the  passes,  a  good  horseman  might  possibly  get  to 

R by  to-morrow  morning.  Of  course,  he  would 

have  to  ride  for  life  and  death " 

"And  through  the  midst  of  the  enemy — non- 
sense! You  are  a  soldier  and  must  tell  yourself 
that  it  is  impossible.  The  foolhardy  rider  would  not 
get  half  a  mile — he  would  be  shot  down." 

"But  if  a  man  could  be  found  who  would  be  will- 
ing to  make  the  attempt  in  spite  of  everything?  I 
know  such  a  man,  Your  Excellency." 

The  General  frowned  angrily. 

"Does  that  mean  that  you  wish  to  offer  yourself 
for  this  useless  sacrifice?  I  would  have  to  prohibit 
that,  Prince  Adelsberg.  I  know  how  to  value  the 


THE    SIGtf   OF   FLAME.  391 

courage  of  my  officers,  but  I  shall  not  give  them 
permission  for  such  impossible  enterprises." 

"I  do  not  speak  of  myself,"  said  Egon  earnestly. 
"The  man  of  whom  I  am  thinking  belongs  to  the 
Seventh  Regiment,  and  is  at  present  upon  sentinel 
duty  on  the  Capellenberg.  It  was  he  who  reported 
the  prisoner." 

The  General  had  grown  thoughtful,  but  he  shook 
his  head  incredulously. 

"I  say  it  is  impossible;  but  what  is  this  man's 
name?" 

"Joseph  Tanner." 

"Private?" 

"Yes,  he  entered  voluntarily." 

"You  know  him,  then?" 

"Yes,  Your  Excellency;  he  is  perhaps  the  best 
rider  in  the  whole  army ;  dauntless  to  f oolhardiness, 
and  capable  to  act  in  such  a  case  with  the  circum- 
spection of  an  officer.  If  the  thing  can  possibly  be 
done,  he  will  do  it." 

"And  you  believe — such  a  thing  cannot  be  com- 
manded— it  is,  indeed,  an  act  of  despair — you  be- 
lieve that  the  man  would  take  this  message  of  his 
own  free  will?" 

"I  stand  for  it." 

"Then,  indeed,  I  cannot  nor  dare  not  say  no 
where  so  much  is  at  stake.  I  will  order  Tanner  up 
immediately." 

"May  I  not  take  the  order  to  him?"  Egon  quickly 
interrupted. 

The  General  stopped  and  looked  at  him  search- 
ingly. 

"You  wishvto  do  it  yourself — why?" 

"To  save  time;  the  road  which  Tanner  has  to 
take  leads  by  the  Capellenberg;  an  hour  would 


392  THE    SIGN   OF   FLAME. 

pass  before  he  could  get  to  headquarters  and 
back." 

Nothing  could  be  said  against  that,  but  the  Gen- 
eral seemed  to  feel  that  something  important  was 
hidden  beneath  this.  An  ordinary  private  would 
hardly  undertake  such  peril,  which  drove  him  almost 
into  death's  embrace,  but  the  old  warrior  did  not 
inquire  further.  He  only  asked: 

"Do  you  stand  for  the  man?" 

"Yes,"  returned  the  Prince,  firmly  and  calmly. 

"Very  well;  then  you  can  inform  him  yourself. 
But  one  thing  more — he  must  have  statements  for 
the  outposts  on  the  other  side,  if  indeed  he  reaches 
it,  for  every  detention  may  prove  fatal  where  mo- 
ments count." 

He  stepped  to  his  desk  and  wrote  a  few  lines  upon 
a  paper,  which  he  handed  to  the  Prince. 

"Here  is  the  necessary  passport,  and  here  the  dis- 
patch to  Falkenried.  Will  you  bring  me  immediate 
news  whether  or  not  Tanner  consents  to  go?" 

"Instantly,  Your  Excellency." 

Egon  received  the  papers,  took  his  leave,  and  has- 
tened to  his  quarters,  where  he  ordered  his  horse 
saddled  at  once.  Five  minutes  later  saw  him  on  his 
way. 


CHAPTER  LVI. 

THE  Capellenberg,  of  Chapel  Mountain,  which 
had  probably  borne  originally  another-  name,  but 
was  so  called  by  the  Germans  because  it  bore  a 
chapel,  was  only  a  small  height,  partly  covered 
with  forests.  It  was  the  last  outrunner  of  the 
mountains  at  this  side,  and  formed  here  the  border 
of  the  German  troops.  A  company  of  the  Seventh 
Regiment  was  stationed  in  the  farms  which  lay  scat- 
tered over  its  side.  Their  position  was  rightly  con- 
sidered very  hard  and  most  dangerous. 

The  chapel  lay  desolate  and  lonely,  half  buried 
in  the  deep  snow.  Priests  and  choir  had  long  since 
fled,  and  the  little  edifice  bore  traces  of  destruction 
everywhere,  for  hot  battles  had  been  fought  around 
this  height.  Walls  and  roof  still  stood  intact,  but 
a  part  of  the  ceiling  had  fallen,  and  the  wind  whis- 
tled through  the  shattered  windows.  Behind  it  rose 
the  forest,  clad  in  ice  and  snow,  and  all  this  lay  in 
the  uncertain  light  of  the  half-moon  which  was  now 
visible  in  the  heavily  clouded  sky,  shedding  her 
ghostly  light  upon  the  surroundings,  only  to  again 
quickly  disappear. 

It  was  an  icy  winter  night,  as  at  that  time  at  Ro- 
deck,  and,  as  then,  the  horizon  was  lit  up  by  .a  dark 
reddish  glow ;  but  no  aurora  beamed  here  in  gorge- 
ous beauty ;  the  glow  which  flared  here  in  the  north 
bore  witness  of  battles  fought  all  around ;  it  had  its 
origin  in  burning  villages  and  farms;  the  awful 
signs  of  the  flame  of  war,  which  were  reflected  in 
the  skies. 

393 


THE    SIGN   OF   FLAME. 

A  lonely  sentinel  stood  here  with  gun  on  shoul- 
.'or — Hartmut  von  Falkenried. 

His  eyes  hung  on  the  flaming  horizon,  the  dark 
.'nasses  of  cloud  shone  there  blood-red,  and  from 
:;me  to  time  a  shower  of  fiery  sparks  burst  from  the 
seething  smoke  which  rested  over  the  earth. 

Glow  and  flame  there;  ice  and  night  here!  The 
cold,  which  had  been  intense  already  during  the 
day,  now  grew  to  the  breath  of  ice,  in  which  all  life 
seemed  to  become  stark,  and  which  chilled  the  lonely 
sentinel  to  the  very  marrow. 

Although  he  was  not  the  only  one  who  had  to  do 
this  hard  duty,  his  comrades  had  not  been  spoiled 
by  years  of  life  in  the  Orient  and  the  balmy  air  of 
Sicily.  Hartmut  had  not  lived  through  a  northern 
winter  since  his  boyhood ;  this  cold  grew  disastrous 
to  him,  for  it  seemed  to  change  the  blood  in  his 
veins  into  ice. 

Slowly  the  deadly  sleepiness,  which  is  not  sleep, 
crept  upon  him;  it  made  the  limbs  heavy  as  lead, 
and  drooped  the  eyelids  forcibly.  He  who  was  so 
terribly  threatened,  struggled  against  it  with  all  his 
will-power;  he  tried  to  collect  himself  and  move 
about;  he  succeeded  for  a  moment,  but  exhaustion 
again  approached,  the  end  of  which  he  knew. 

Was  it  not  even  to  be  granted  him  to  fall  by  a 
bullet? 

Hartmut' s  glance  turned  to  the  half-destroyed 
house  of  God,  as  if  beseeching  help ;  but  what  were 
church  and  altar  to  him?  He  had  cast  faith  from 
him  long  ago;  only  night  with  death  stared  him  in 
the  face,  and  life  would  have  given  him  so  much 
when  the  atonement  should  have  been  completed — 
possession  of  his  love,  the  fame  of  a  poet,  and  per- 
haps even  reconciliation  with  his  father. 


THE   SIGN   OF   FLAME.  395 

But  it  was  not  to  be.  He  must  stand  to  his  post 
and  wait  for  the  ignominous  death  which  was  creep- 
ing upon  him  from  the  icy  darkness.  Duty  com- 
manded and  he — obeyed. 

But  in  the  distance  sounded  steps  and  voices 
which  came  nearer  and  nearer.  They  tore  Hart- 
mut  from  the  semi-unconsciousness  which  had  al- 
ready begun  to  veil  his  senses. 

He  roused  himself  with  an  effort  and  made  his 
gun  ready,  but  it  was  his  comrades  who  drew  near. 
What  did  it  mean  ?  The  hour  for  relief  had  not  yet 
come ;  but  in  a  moment  a  sergeant  stood  before  him. 

"Relief — command  from  headquarters  brought 
by  an  officer,"  came  the  order. 
.  The  change  was  made  and  a  sturdy  peasant,  who 
did  not  seem  to  mind  the  cold  much,  took  Hartmut's 
place.  As  Hartmut  was  about  to  join  the  sergeant 
an  officer  approached  him  from  the  other  side. 

"Let  the  sergeant  go  on.  I  wish  to  speak  to  you, 
Tanner;  follow  me." 

Prince  Adelsberg,  who  did  not  wish  the  sentinel 
to  witness  the  conversation,  entered  the  chapel,  into 
which  Hartmut  followed  him. 

The  pale  moonlight  falling  through  the  windows 
revealed  all  the  dismantled  and  destroyed  interior. 
The  fallen  ceiling  had  shattered  some  of  the  pews; 
the  altar  alone  stood  undemolished. 

Egon  had  walked  to  the  middle  of  the  room, 
where  he  stopped  and  turned. 

"Hartmut." 

"Herr  Lieutenant." 

"Stop  that,  we  are  alone,"  said  trie  Prince.  "I 
did  not  think, that  we  should  meet  like  this." 

"And  I  hoped  I  should  be  spared  it,"  said  Hart- 
mut hoarsely,  "You  have  come >" 


396  THE   SIGN    OF   FLAME. 

"From  headquarters.  I  heard  that  you  had  been 
ordered  to  sentinel  duty  on  the  Capellenberg.  That 
is  awful  duty  for  such  a  night  as  this." 

Hartmut  was  silent;  he  knew  that  without  this 
interruption  it  would  have  been  his  last  duty. 

Egon  looked  at  him  with  concern.  In  spite  of 
the  uncertain  light  he  saw  how  rigid  and  exhausted 
was  the  man  who  leaned  against  one  of  the  pillars 
as  if  he  needed  support. 

"I  came  to  bring  you  an  order,  but  it  is  left  to 
your  own  free  will  to  accept  it  or  not.  The  matter 
is  considered  almost  impossible,  and  it  would  be, 
perhaps,  to  any  one  else.  You  have  courage  for  it, 
I  know,  but  the  question  is,  have  you  the  strength 
after  all  these  exertions?" 

"Fifteen  minutes'  rest  and  warmth  will  give  me 
the  strength.  But  what  does  it  concern  ?" 

"A  ride  for  life  or  death.  You  are  to  take  a  mes- 
sage through  the  midst  of  the  enemy — to  R " 

To  the  fortress?"  cried  Hartmut  with  a  start. 
"There  stands " 

"General  Falkenried  with  his  brigade;  he  is  lost 
if  the  message  does  not  reach  him.  We  lay  his 
safety  in  the  hands  of  his  son." 

Again  Hartmut  started.  Gone  were  frost  and 
exhaustion.  With  feverish  excitement  he  grasped 
the  Prince's  arm. 

"I  am  to  save  my  father?  I?  What  has  hap- 
pened ?  What  must  I  do  ?" 

"Listen.  The  prisoner  whom  you  reported  to  me 
to-day  has  given  us  a  terrible  disclosure ;  it  concerns 
a  betrayal.  The  fortress  is  to  be  blown  up  as  soon 
as  their  troops  are  in  safety  and  ours  have  taken 
possession.  The  General  sent  warnings  instantly, 
but  they  will  not  reach  them  in  time,  as  they  have 


,THE    SIGN   OF   FLAME.  397 

to  take  a  circuitous  route.  Your  father  thinks  of 
taking  possession  to-morrow.  He  must  be  warned 
before  that,  and  there  is  only  one  possibility.  The 
messenger  must  go  over  the  mountain  passes,  which 
are  held  by  the  enemy.  If  successful,  the  news 
will  reach  there  to-morrow  before  noon,  but  the 
way " 

"I  know  it,"  interrupted  Hartmut.  "Our  regi- 
ment took  it  only  fourteen  days  ago  coming  here. 
The  passes  were  free  then." 

"So  much  the  better!  Of  course  you  must  take 
off  your  uniform,  which  would  betray  you." 

"I  shall  change  only  cloak  and  helmet.  If  I  am 
held  up  at  all,  my  fate  is  sealed — so  it  is  only  im- 
portant that  I  be  not  recognized  in  flying  past.  If 
only  a  good  capable  horse  can  be  found!" 

"It  is  at  hand.  I  brought  my  Arab — my  Sala- 
din — with  me.  You  know  him  and  have  often  rid- 
den him.  He  flies  like  a  bird,  and  must  do  his  mas- 
ter achievement  this  night." 

The  conversation  had  been  conducted  with  flying 
haste,  and  now  the  Prince  drew  out  the  papers  which 
he  had  received  at  headquarters. 

"Here  is  the  order  of  the  Commanding  General, 
which  puts  everything  at  your  disposal  when  you 
reach  our  outposts — and  here  the  dispatch.  Give 
yourself  half  an  hour's  rest,  for  your  strength  might 
not  hold  out,  and  you  will  break  down  on  the  way." 

"Do  you  think  that  I  need  rest  and  recreation 
now,"  cried  Hartmut,  flashing  up.  "I  shall  surely 
not  break  down  now;  it  will  have  to  be  under  the 
fire  of  the  enemy  if  I  do.  I  thank  you,  Egon,  for 
this  hour,  in  which  you  at  last — at  last — speak  to 
me  free  from  triat  base  suspicion." 

"And  in  which  I  send  you  out  into  death,"  said 


398  THE    SIGN   OF   FLAME. 

the  Prince  softly.  "We  will  not  shun  the  truth.  It 
will  be  a  miracle  if  you  get  through  safely." 

"A  miracle." 

Hartmut's  glance  wandered  to  the  altar,  upon 
which  rested  the  pale  light  of  the  moon.  He  had 
forgotten  long  ago  how  to  pray,  yet  at  this  moment 
he  sent  up  a  silent,  fervent  prayer  to  the  heavens — 
to  the  power  which  could  do  miracles. 

"Only  until  I  have  saved  my  father  and  his  men — 
only  so  long  guide  and  keep  me !" 

In  the  next  second  he  drew  himself  up.  It  was 
as  if  Egon  had  poured  glowing  life  power  into  the 
veins  of  the  man  who  so  shortly  since  was  threat- 
ened with  death  through  cold  and  exhaustion. 

"And  now  let  us  say  good-by,"  whispered  Egon. 
"Farewell,  Hartmut." 

He  opened  wide  his  arms  and  Hartmut  fell  upon 
his  breast. 

All  that  had  stood  between  them  was  buried  in 
this  embrace.  The  old  glowing  love  burst  forth 
powerfully  again  for  the  last  time,  for  both  felt  that 
they  would  not  meet  again — that  this  was  a  final 
farewell. 

Scarce  fifteen  minutes  later  a  horseman  dashed 
away;  the  slender  Arab  flying  so  that  his  hoof 
seemed  not  to  touch  the  ground.  In  furious  gallop 
he  flew  along  over  the  snow — through  ice-covered 
forests,  over  frozen  brooks — on  and  on  into  the 
mountain  passes ! 


CHAPTER  LVII. 

THE  next  day  brought  clear,  frosty  weather,  but 
the  sun  shone  brightly  and  the  cold  had  somewhat 
abated. 

In  Prince  Adelsberg's  quarters  were  Eugene 
Stahlberg  and  Waldorf,  the  latter  being  off  duty  to- 
day on  account  of  a  fall  upon  the  ice,  resulting  in  an 
injury  to  his  hand,  which  prevented  him  from 
marching  with  his  company  as  Egon  had  done. 

The  gentlemen  were  awaiting  their  princely  com- 
rade, who  was  expected  soon,  and  entertained  them- 
selves in  the  meantime  by  teasing  Peter  Stadinger, 
who  had,  as  in  duty  bound,  appeared  at  his  young 
master's  this  morning,  and  who  also  awaited  him 
now. 

The  young  officers  knew  nothing  as  yet  of  the 
news  which  had  been  obtained  at  headquarters  yes- 
terday, and  were  in  the  best  of  spirits — taking  all 
possible  pains  to  call  forth  in  Stadinger  the  far- 
famed  churlishness.  But  it  was  not  successful  to- 
day. The  old  man  remained  laconic  and  reticent. 
He  would  only  repeat  his  question:  When  would 
His  Highness  return?  and  if  it  would  be  a  serious 
skirmish  to  which  His  Highness  had  marched? 
until  finally  Waldorf  lost  all  patience. 

"Stadinger,  I  believe  you  would  like  best  to  pack 
up  your  Prince  and  take  him  back  with  you  to  your 
Rodeck,  which  is  safe  from  bombs,"  he  asserted. 
"You  must  get  over  this  anxiety  in  the  war — re- 
member that." 

399 


400  THE    SIGN   OF   FLAME. 

"And,  besides,  the  Prince  has  only  marched  out 
to  reconnoitre,"  added  Eugene.  "He  is  just  taking 
a  little  walk  with  his  people  from  the  Capellenberg 
into  the  neighboring  dales  and  ravines,  to  ascertain 
how  it  really  looks  there.  They  will  probably  ex- 
change a  few  compliments  with  the  French  gentle- 
men, and  then  retreat  politely;  the  more  impolite 
attacks  will  follow  in  a  few  days." 

"But  is  there  shooting  with  it  all  ?"  asked  Stadin- 
ger,  with  such  anxious  mien  that  the  two  officers 
laughed  aloud. 

"Yes,  shots  are  being  exchanged,  too,"  confirmed 
Waldorf.  "You  seem  to  have  great  fear  of  them, 
yet  you  are  at  a  safe  distance." 

"I?"  The  old  man  drew  himself  up,  deeply  of- 
fended. 

"I  wish  I  could  be  in  the  midst  of  it  also." 

"Perhaps  to  protect  your  much  loved  Highness. 
The  Prince  would  decline  that.  You  would  hold 
on  to  his  coat  tails  and  cry  continually,  'Take  care, 
Your  Highness,  there  comes  a  ball/  That  would 
look  fine!" 

"Herr  Lieutenant,"  said  the  old  man,  so  seriously 
that  the  gay  tease  was  silenced,  "you  should  not  do 
that  to  an  old  hunter  who  has  often  climbed  after 
the  chamois,  and  has  fired  his  gun  when  he  had 
scarcely  a  foot's  breadth  of  ground  to  stand  on;  I 
feel  so  depressed  and  anxious  to-day.  I  wish  the 
day  would  end." 

"Well,  it  was  not  meant  so  seriously,"  said 
Eugene,  soothingly.  "We  believe  you,  Stadinger; 
you  do  not  look  like  a  man  who  is  afraid.  But  you 
must  not  speak  to  us  about  your  depressing  presen- 
timents. One  does  not  think  of  them  after  one  has 
stood  so  many  times  in  the  shower  of  bullets. 


THE   SIGN   OF   FLAME.  401 

When  we  are  happily  at  home  again,  I  will  come  to 
my  sister  at  Ostwalden,  and  we  will  then  be  good 
neighbors  with  Rodeck.  The  Prince  loves  his  old 
forest  nook  so  well.  And  now  abandon  your  anx- 
iety, for  there  he  comes  already." 

Rapid  steps  were  heard  on  the  stairs  outside ;  the 
old  man  sighed  with  relief.  But  it  was  only  Egon's 
attendant  who  appeared  in  the  open  door. 

"Well,  has  His  Highness  arrived?"  asked  Wal- 
dorf; but  Stadinger  did  not  allow  the  man  time  to 
answer.  He  had  cast  one  glance  at  his  face — only 
a  single  one — then  suddenly  grasped  his  hand  with 
a  convulsive  clutch. 

"What  is  it?     Where — where  is  my  master?" 

The  man  shook  his  head  sadly  and  pointed  si- 
lently to  the  window,  to  which  both  officers  hast- 
ened with  fear  and  dread.  But  Stadinger  lost  no 
time.  He  dashed  out — down  the  stairs,  into  the 
little  garden  which  lay  before  the  house,  and  with  a 
loud,  bitter  cry  sank  upon  his  knees  at  the  side  of  a 
stretcher,  upon  which  there  lay  a  slender,  youthful 
figure. 

"Quietly,"  said  the  physician  who  had  accom- 
panied the  sad  group.  "Control  yourself — the 
Prince  is  seriously  wounded." 

"I  see  it,"  gasped  the  faithful  old  servant;  "but 
not  fatally — oh,  say  not  fatally.  Only  tell  me  that, 
Herr  Doctor !" 

He  looked  up  to  the  surgeon  with  such  despair- 
ing entreaty  that  the  latter  had  not  courage  to  tell 
him  the  truth,  but  turned  to  the  two  officers  who 
now  hastened  near  and  overwhelmed  him  with  low, 
anxious  questioning. 

"A  ball  in  "the  breast,"  he  explained,  in  the  same 
tone.  "The  Prince  begged  to  be  brought  to  his 


402  THE    SIGN   OF   FLAME. 

quarters,  and  we  have  used  all  possible  care  in  the 
moving ;  but  it  will  bring  the  end  more  quickly  than 
I  thought." 

"Fatal?"  asked  Waldorf. 

"Beyond  a  doubt." 

The  surgeon  gave  the  bearers  who  prepared  to 
take  their  charge  into  the  house,  a  sign  to  desist. 

"Stop,  the  Prince  seems  to  have  something  to  say 
to  his  old  servant,  and  there  are  no  moments  to 
lose." 

Stadinger  saw  and  heard  nothing  of  what  hap- 
pened at  his  side.  He  looked  only  upon  his  master. 

Egon  seemed  to  be  unconscious.  The  light  hair 
had  become  disheveled,  the  eyes  were  closed,  and 
beneath  the  cloak  with  which  he  had  been  covered, 
and  which  had  partly  fallen  open,  the  blood-stained 
uniform  could  be  seen. 

"Your  Highness,"  besought  Stadinger,  softly,  ac- 
cording to  the  doctor's  warning,  but  with  heart- 
breaking accents,  "only  look  at  me !  Speak  to  me ! 
It  is  I — Stadinger." 

The  well-known  voice  found  its  way  to  the  ear  of 
the  desperately  wounded  man.  Slowly  his  eyes 
opened,  and  a  slight  smile  flitted  over  his  features 
as  he  recognized  the  old  man  who  knelt  at  his 
side. 

"My  old  Waldgeist,"  he  whispered,  "did  you 
have  to  come — to  see  this  ?" 

"But  you  will  not  die,  Your  Highness,"  mur- 
mured Stadinger,  his  whole  body  a-tremble,  but 
never  removing  his  eyes  from  his  dying  master ;  "no 
— do  not  die — surely  not !" 

"Do  you  think  that  it  is  hard?"  said  Egon, 
calmly.  "Yesterday — you  saw  quite  correctly — 
my  heart  felt  heavy ;  but  now  it  is  light.  Give  my 


THE    SIGN   OF   FLAME.  403 

love  to  Rodeck — and  to  my  forests  and — to  her, 
too,  the  mistress  of  Ostwalden." 

"Whom?  Frau  Wallmoden?"  asked  Stadinger, 
almost  terrified  at  this  turn. 

"Yes — take  her  my  last  greeting — tell  her  to 
think  of  me  sometimes." 

The  words  came  painfully — brokenly — from  the 
lips  which  seemed  to  almost  refuse  their  duty;  but 
they  left  no  doubt  as  to  the  meaning  of  the  last 
greeting. 

Eugene  had  started  when  he  heard  the  name  of 
his  sister,  and  now  bent  low  over  the  dying  man, 
who  saw  the  brother  of  Adelaide — recognized  the 
features  which  resembled  hers  so  much — and  again 
a  smile  passed  over  his  face.  Then  he  leaned  his 
fair  head  quietly  and  calmly  on  the  breast  of  his  old 
Waldgeist,  and  the  beautiful  blue  eyes  closed  for- 
ever. 

It  had  been  a  short,  painless  struggle — almost  a 
falling  asleep.  Stadinger  had  not  moved — had  not 
uttered  a  sound,  for  he  knew  it  would  hurt  his 
young  master,  whom  he  had  borne  in  his  arms  as  a 
child,  and  who  now  drew  his  last  breath  in  those 
arms.  But,  when  all  was  over,  the  composure  of 
the  old  man  gave  way.  He  threw  himself  despair- 
ingly upon  the  body  and  wept  like  a  child. 


CHAPTER  LVIII. 

OVER  on  the  other  side  of  the  mountain  passes 
also  the  winter  sun  shone  clear  and  bright  upon  the 
new  achievements  which  the  victorious  German 
troops  had  acquired. 

The  negotiations  with  the  commander  of  R 

had  been  brought  to  an  end,  and  the  fortress  had 
surrendered.  The  captive  garrison  moved  out, 
while  a  portion  of  the  victors  had  already 
marched  in. 

General  Falkenried  stood  in  the  main  square  of 
the  lower  town  with  his  staff,  about  to  move  also 
•into  the  fortress.  The  helmets  and  arms  of  the 
troops  who  were  on  their  way  into  the  citadel  glit- 
tered in  the  sunshine.  Falkenried  issued  various 
orders,  then  took  his  stand  at  the  head  of  his  staff 
and  gave  the  signal  to  march. 

But  now  there  came  a  horseman  in  furious  haste 
over  the  main  road;  the  noble  animal  he  rode  was 
covered  with  sweat  and  foam,  and  his  sides  bled 
from  the  cruel  spurs  which  had  hurried  him  on  and 
on  when  his  strength  threatened  to  desert  him. 
The  face  also  of  the  rider  was  disfigured  by  the 
blood  trickling  from  beneath  the  cloth  that  had  been 
wound  around  the  forehead. 

He  came  flying,  as  if  driven  by  a  tornado,  and 
everything  fled  from  before  him  until  he  reached  the 
open  square,  dashed  through  the  midst  of  the  offi- 
cers straight  up  to  the  General.  A  few  steps  from 
the  end  of  the  journey  the  strength  of  the  noble 

404 


THE   SIGN   0$   tfLAME.  405 

horse  failed,  he  broke  down  completely;  but  at  the 
same  moment  the  rider  sprang  from  the  saddle  and 
hastened  toward  the  commander. 

"From  the  Commanding  General." 

Falkenried  started  at  the  first  word.  He  had  not 
recognized  the  blood-covered  face ;  he  only  saw  that 
the  man  who  dashed  up  as  if  for  life  or  death  must 
bring  an  important  message.  But  at  the  sound  of 
that  voice,  an  idea  of  the  truth  flashed  upon  him. 

Hartmut  swayed  and  laid  his  hand  for  a  moment 
on  his  brow;  it  seemed  as  if  he  were  about  to  break 
down,  too,  like  his  horse.  But  he  recovered  with 
an  effort. 

"The  General  sends  word  to  be  cautious  —  be- 
trayal is  planned — the  fortress  will  be  blown  up  as 
soon  as  its  garrison  has  moved  off.  Here  is  the  dis- 
patch." 

He  tore  a  paper  from  his  breast  and  gave  it  to 
Falkenried.  The  officers  had  become  violently  ex- 
cited at  the  awful  news,  and  pressed  around  their 
chief  as  if  expecting  to  hear  from  him  confirmation 
of  the  incredible  report.  But  they  had  a  strange 
sight  before  them. 

The  General,  whose  iron  composure  they  all 
knew — who  never  lost  control  of  himself — had 
turned  deathly  pale,  and  stared  at  the  speaker  as  if  a 
spirit  had  risen  before  him  from  the  ground,  while 
he  held  the  paper  unopened  in  his  hand. 

"Herr  General — the  dispatch !" 

One  of  the  adjutants  who  understood  the  pro- 
ceedings as  little  as  the  others,  gently  reminded 
him ;  but  it  was  enough  to  bring  Falkenried  back  to 
consciousness.  He  tore  the  dispatch  open  and 
glanced  it  over,  and  was  now  again  the  soldier  who 
knew  nothing  but  his  duty. 


406  THE   SIGtf   OP   FLAME. 

With  full,  firm  voice  he  gave  his  orders.  The 
officers  galloped  right  and  left;  signals  and  com- 
mands resounded  in  all  directions,  and  in  a  few  mo- 
ments the  last  detachment  of  soldiers  came  to  a 
standstill.  Upon  the  fortress  sounded  the  signal  of 
alarm.  Neither  friend  nor  foe  knew  what  it  meant. 
Did  it  not  appear  as  if  the  so  recently  conquered 
place  was  to  be  vacated  at  once?  But  the  orders 
were  executed  with  the  usual  alacrity  and  dispatch ; 
the  movements  were  completed  with  perfect  com- 
posure, in  spite  of  the  haste,  and  the  troops  turned 
back  into  the  town. 

Falkenried  was  still  in  the  open  square,  giving 
orders,  receiving  reports,  watching  and  guiding 
everything  with  his  eyes.  But  still  he  found  a  mo- 
ment's time  to  turn  to  his  son,  to  whom  he  had  not 
as  yet  given  any  sign  of  recognition. 

"You  are  bleeding — let  it  be  bandaged." 

Hartmut  shook  his  head  hastily. 

''Later — I  must  first  see  the  retreat — the  rescue." 

The  awful  excitement  sustained  him;  he  did  not 
falter  again,  but  followed  with  feverish  attention 
every  movement  of  the  troops. 

Falkenried  looked  at  him  and  then  asked: 

"Which  way  did  you  come?" 

"Over  the  mountain  passes." 

"Over  the  passes !     The  enemy  stands  there." 

"Yes,  there  they  stand." 

"And  you  came  over  that  way?" 

"I  had  to,  otherwise  the  news  would  not  have 
reached  here  in  time.  I  started  only  last  night." 

"But  that  is  an  heroic  deed  without  an  equal ! 
Man,  how  could  you  accomplish  it  ?"  exclaimed  one 
of  the  higher  officers,  who  had  just  brought  a  report 
and  heard  the  last  words. 


THE    SIGK    OF   FLAME.  40? 

Hartmut  was  silent;  only  he  slowly  raised  his 
eyes  to  his  father.  He  no  longer  feared  the  eyes  he 
had  feared  so  long,  and  what  he  read  in  them  now 
told  him  that  here,  too,  he  was  free  from  that  awful 
suspicion. 

But  even  the  greatest  will  power  has  its  limits, 
and  this  was  reached  with  the  man  who  had  ren- 
dered almost  superhuman  assistance.  The  face  of 
his  father  was  the  last  thing  he  saw — then  it  disap- 
peared as  behind  a  bloody  veil;  something  hot  and 
wet  flowed  over  his  forehead  —  all  became  night 
around  him,  and  he  sank  to  the  ground. 

And  now  resounded  a  crash,  under  the  appalling 
force  of  which  the  whole  town  trembled  and 
quaked.  The  citadel,  whose  outlines  had  just  stood 
out  sharp  and  clear  against  the  blue  sky,  was  sud- 
denly transformed  into  a  crater,  vomiting  forth  fire 
and  destruction.  In  those  walls  a  hell  seemed  to 
open;  showers  of  rocks  and  stones  rose  high  in  the 
air,  only  to  come  down  with  thunderous  clatter,  and 
immediately  there  leaped  and  flickered  over  all  the 
huge  pile  of  debris  a  giant  pillar  of  fire  and  smoke 
which  rose  up  to  the  heavens — a  terrible  sign  of 
flame! 

The  warning  had  arrived  at  the  last  possible  mo- 
ment. But,  in  spite  of  it,  there  was  a  sacrifice  of 
life,  for  whoever  had  been  still  in  the  neighborhood 
of  the  citadel  had  been  crushed  or  severely  injured. 
Still  the  loss  was  small  in  comparison  with  the  in- 
calculable disaster 'which  would  surely  have  taken 
place  had  not  the  warning  been  brought. 

The  General,  with  his  officers  and  nearly  all  his 
troops,  had  been  saved.  Falkenried  had  made  all 
the  arrangements  required  by  the  dreadful  catas- 
trophe with  his  usual  promptitude  and  circumspeo 


408  THE   SIGN   OF   FLAME. 

tion.  He  was  everywhere,  and  his  activity  and  ex- 
ample succeeded  in  giving  back  to  the  men  who  had 
been  betrayed  in  the  height  of  victory  their  equi- 
librium. Only  when  the  commander  had  done  his 
duty  did  the  father  seek  his  natural  rights. 

Hartmut  still  lay  unconscious  in  one  of  the  neigh- 
boring houses,  into  which  he  had  been  carried  when 
he  sank  to  the  ground.  He  neither  saw  nor  heard 
the  father,  who  stood  at  his  bedside  with  one  of  the 
physicians. 

Falkenried  silently  gazed  down  upon  the  pale 
face  and  closed  eyes,  then  turned  to  the  physician. 

"You  do  not  consider  the  wound  fatal?" 

The  doctor  sadly  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"Not  the  wound  in  itself,  but  the  great  over- 
exertion  of  that  life  and  death  ride — the  heavy  loss 
of  blood,  the  bitter  cold  of  the  night.  I  fear,  Herr 
General,  you  must  be  prepared  for  the  worst." 

"I  am  prepared  for  it,"  said  Falkenried,  solemnly. 
Then  he  knelt  down  and  kissed  the  son  whom  per- 
haps he  had  found  only  to  lose  again ;  and  hot,  burn- 
ing tears  fell  upon  the  deathly  white  face. 

But  it  was  not  granted  the  father  to  remain  with 
his  child  for  any  length  of  time;  he  was  forced  to 
leave  after  a  few  moments,  requesting  the  doctor 
once  more  to  give  his  greatest  care  and  skill  to  the 
patient. 

At  the  open  square  were  collected  the  General's 
staff  and  other  officers,  awaiting  their  chief.  They 
knew  he  was  at  present  with  the  wounded  man  who 
had  brought  the  warning,  and  whom  nobody  knew. 

It  had  become  known  that  he  had  come  over  the 
mountain  passes,  through  the  midst  of  the  foe — 
that  he  had  ventured  upon  a  ride  the  like  of  which 
nobody  in  the  army  could  imitate — and  when  the 


THE    SIGN   OF   FLAME.  409 

General  at  last  appeared,  everybody  gathered 
around  him,  questioningly. 

Falkenried  was  deeply  serious,  but  the  rigid, 
gloomy  look  which  his  face  was  accustomed  to  bear 
had  disappeared  and  given  place  to  an  expression 
which  the  attendant  officers  saw  now  for  the  first 
time.  In  his  eyes  tears  still  glistened,  but  his  voice 
sounded  firm  and  clear  as  he  answered: 

"Yes,  gentlemen,  he  is  desperately  injured,  and 
perhaps  it  was  his  last  ride  that  brought  rescue  to 
us.  But  he  has  done  his  duty  as  a  man  and  a  sol- 
dier, and  if  you  want  to  know  his  name — he  is  my 
son,  Hartmut  von  Falkenried !" 


CHAPTER  LIX. 

THE  old  mansion  of  Burgsdorf  lay  peaceful  and 
cosy  in  the  brightest  sunlight.  It  had  but  recently 
received  back  its  lord,  who  had  been  absent  nearly 
a  year,  and  who  returned  now  after  the  war  was 
over,  to  his  home  and  his  young  wife. 

The  large  estate,  with  its  extensive  work,  had  not 
suffered  through  his  long  absence,  for  it  had  been 
under  safe  guidance.  The  master's  mother  had 
stepped  into  her  old  place,  and  held  the  reins  with 
her  usual  firm  hand,  until  the  return  of  her  son ;  but 
now  she  laid  those  reins  solemnly  into  his  hands 
again  and  insisted,  in  spite  of  all  prayers  and  en- 
treaties, upon  leaving  Burgsdorf  and  returning  to 
her  city  home. 

At  present  Frau  von  Eschenhagen  was  standing 
upon  the  terrace,  the  broad  stone  steps  of  which  led 
into  the  garden,  talking  with  Willibald,  who  stood 
beside  her. 

Her  glance  rested  with  undeniable  satisfaction 
upon  the  powerful,  manly  form  of  her  son,  who  ap- 
peared even  more  stately  now  because  of  the  ac- 
quired military  bearing.  Perhaps  she  felt  that 
something  different  and  better  had  been  made  of 
the  young  country  squire  than  she  could  have  done 
with  her  education.  But  she  would  not  have  con- 
fessed it  at  any  price. 

"And  so  you  wish  to  build,"  she  was  saying;  "I 
thought  about  as  much.  The  plain  old  house  in 

410 


THE   SIGN   OF   FLAME.  411 

which  your  father  and  I  lived  so  many  years  is,  of 
course,  not  good  enough  for  your  little  princess. 
She  must  be  surrounded  by  every  available  splen- 
dor. Well,  I  don't  mind;  you  have  the  money  for 
it,  and  can  allow  yourself  that  pleasure.  I  am  glad 
to  say  I  have  not  the  responsibility  of  it  any  longer." 

"Do  not  act  so  grim,  mamma,"  laughed  Willi- 
bald.  "If  any  one  should  hear  you,  they  would 
think  you  the  worst  of  mothers-in-law,  whereas  if  I 
did  not  know  it  from  Marietta's  letters,  I  see  it  daily 
now,  how  you  spoil  her  and  carry  her  upon  your 
hands." 

"Oh,  well,  one  likes  to  play  with  pretty  dolls 
sometimes,  even  in  old  age,"  replied  Regine,  dryly; 
"and  your  wife  is  such  a  delicate  little  doll,  who  is 
only  good  for  play.  Do  not  imagine  that  she  will 
ever  get  to  be  a  competent  farm  manager.  I  saw 
that  from  the  first  moment,  and  have  not  allowed 
her  to  do  it  at  all." 

"And  you  were  right  in  that,"  joined  in  the 
young  lord.  "Work  and  management  are  my  part. 
My  Marietta  shall  not  be  worried  with  it.  But,  be- 
lieve me,  mamma,  one  can  live  and  work  quite  dif- 
ferently when  such  a  sweet  little  singvogel  sings 
courage  and  love  of  work  into  one's  heart." 

"Boy,  I  believe  you  are  crazy  still,"  said  Frau  von 
Eschenhagen,  with  her  old  grim  manner.  "Has  it 
ever  been  known  that  a  sensible  man — a  husband 
and  estate  owner  —  speaks  so  of  his  wife  —  'sweet 
little  singvogel' !  Perhaps  you  get  that  from  your 
bosom  friend,  Hartmut,  who  is  considered  by  you 
all  as  such  a  great  poet.  You  always  did  imitate 
him  as  a  boy." 

"No,  mamma,  it  is  really  my  own.  I  have  com- 
posed poetry  but  once  in  my  life,  on  the  night  when 


412  THE   SIGN   OF   FLAME. 

I  saw  Marietta  in  Hartmut's  'Arivana.'  The  poem 
fell  into  my  hands  the  other  day,  when  I  was  put- 
ting my  desk  in  order,  and  I  gave  it  to  Hartmut, 
begging  him  to  change  it  a  little,  for,  strange  to 
say,  the  rhymes  would  not  fit,  and  I  had  not  done 
very  well  with  the  meter.  Do  you  know  what  he 
said?  'My  dear  Willy,  your  poem  is  very  beautiful 
as  far  as  sentiment  is  concerned,  but  I  advise  you  to 
abandon  poetry.  Such  verse  is  not  to  be  tolerated, 
and  your  wife  will  seek  a  divorce  if  you  sing  to  her 
in  this  style.'  That  is  how  my  'bosom  friend' 
judges  my  poetical  talent." 

"It  serves  you  right,  too.  What  does  an  estate 
owner  have  to  do  with  poetry?"  said  Regine,  causti- 
cally. 

The  door  of  the  dining  room  was  opened  and  a 
small  head,  running  over  with  dark  curls,  peeped 
out. 

"Is  it  permitted  to  disturb  the  assembly  in  their 
important  business  discourse?" 

"Come  along,  you  small  elf,"  said  Frau  von  Esch- 
enhagen.  But  the  permission  was  superfluous,  for 
the  young  wife  had  already  flown  into  her  husband's 
open  arms.  He  bent  over  her  affectionately  and 
whispered  something  in  her  ear. 

"Are  you  commencing  again?"  scolded  the 
mother.  "It  is  really  unbearable  in  your  presence 
nowadays." 

Marietta  only  turned  her  head,  without  freeing 
herself  from  the  embrace  which  held  her  so  closely, 
and  said,  roguishly :  "We  are  celebrating  our  honey- 
moon after  the  long  separation,  and  you  must  know 
from  your  own  experience  how  people  act  then, 
nicht  wahr,  mamma?" 

Regine  shrugged  her  shoulders.    Her  honeymoon 


THE    SIGN   OF   FLAME.  413 

with  the  late  Eschenhagen  had  been  of  a  different 
kind. 

"You  received  a  letter  from  your  grandfather, 
Marietta,"  she  said,  changing  the  subject;  "was  it 
good  news  ?" 

"The  very  best.  Grandpapa  is  quite  well  and  an- 
ticipating much  pleasure  in  his  visit  to  Burgsdorf 
next  month.  But  he  writes  that  everything  is  very 
quiet  around  Waldhofen  since  Rodeck  has  lost  its 
master.  Everything  is  closed  and  desolate  since  the 
death  of  the  young  Prince.  Ostwalden  is  lonely, 
and  Furstenstein  will  be  deserted,  too,  after  Toni's 
marriage,  which  occurs  in  two  weeks.  Poor  Uncle 
Schonan  will  be  all  alone  then." 

The  last  words  were  spoken  with  a  certain  em- 
phasis as  the  young  wife  threw  a  peculiar  glance  at 
her  mother-in-law. 

That  upright  lady  did  not  pay  any  attention  to  it, 
but  only  remarked:  "Yes,  it  is  a  strange  notion  of 
Hartmut  and  Adelaide  to  live  here  in  the  pine  forest 
in  a  small,  rented  villa  during  the  first  weeks  of 
their  married  life,  while  the  large  castle  of  Ost- 
walden and  all  of  the  Stahlberg  country  seats  are  at 
their  disposal." 

"They  probably  wished  to  remain  with  their 
father  a  little  longer,"  said  Willibald. 

"Well,  Falkenried  could  have  taken  a  vacation  in 
this  case  and  gone  with  them.  Thank  God  that  the 
man  has  really  come  back  to  life,  since  that  terrible 
bitterness  has  fallen  from  him,  and  he  has  his  son 
again.  I  knew  well  how  very  hard  the  flight  of  the 
boy  struck  him.  He  secretly  idolized  him,  while 
showing  him  only  severity  and  requiring  in  turn 
nothing  but  t  obedience.  Of  course,  what  Hartmut 
accomplished  with  that  night's  ride,  by  which  he 


&14  THE    SIGN   OF   FLAME. 

saved  his  father  with  his  troops,  erases  even  more 
than  a  senseless  boy's  escapade,  for  which  the 
mother  was  really  to  blame." 

"But  we  are  cheated  out  of  all  the  wedding  fes- 
tivities in  the  family,"  pouted  Marietta.  "Willy 
and  I  had  to  be  married  quietly  because  the  war 
broke  out,  and  now,  after  the  war  has  happily 
ceased,  Hartmut  and  Adelaide  do  just  like  it." 

"My  child,  when  one  has  gone  through  such 
things  as  Hartmut  has,  all  pleasure  in  festivities  is 
lost,"  said  Frau  Eschenhagen,  gravely.  "And,  be- 
sides, he  has  not  fully  recuperated  yet.  You  saw 
how  pale  he  was  at  the  wedding.  Adelaide's  first 
marriage  was,  indeed,  celebrated  with  more  pomp. 
Her  father  insisted  upon  it,  in  spite  of  his  low  state 
of  health,  and  the  bride  was  really  a  queenly,  if  cold, 
apparition  in  her  satin  train  and  her  laces  and  dia- 
monds. But,  truly,  she  looked  different  when  she 
drew  near  the  altar  with  her  Hartmut,  in  the  sim- 
ple white  silk  dress  and  the  dainty  veil.  I  never  in 
my  life  saw  her  so  lovely.  Poor  Herbert!  He 
never  possessed  the  love  of  his  wife." 

"But  how  could  one  love  such  an  old  Excellency 
in  his  diplomatic  frock  coat  ?  I  could  not  have  done 
it,  either,"  said  Marietta,  pertly. 

But  she  had  touched  a  weak  point;  her  mother- 
in-law  held  the  remembrance  of  her  brother  in  high 
esteem. 

"The  necessity  would  never  have  come  to  you," 
she  remarked,  with  pique.  "A  man  like  Herbert 
von  Wallmoden  would  hardly  have  wooed  you — 
you  little  saucy " 

But  she  got  no  further,  for  the  saucy  little  sprite 
already  hung  around  her  neck  coaxingly. 

"Please  don't  get  angry,  mamma.      How  can  I 


THE   SIGN   OF   FLAME.  415 

help  it  that  my  most  undiplomatic  Willy  is  dearer  to 
me  than  all  the  Excellencies  in  the  whole  world,  and 
he  is  that  to  you,  too ;  eh,  mamma  ?" 

"You  little  flatterer!"  Regine  tried  in  vain  to 
keep  up  her  severe  mien.  "You  know  very  well 
that  nobody  can  get  angry  with  you.  A  regime 
will  now  probably  commence  here  at  Burgsdorf 
which  has  had  no  precedent.  Willy  is  ashamed  be- 
fore me  now,  but  after  I  am  gone,  he  will  surrender 
to  you  upon  grace  or  displeasure." 

"Mamrrta,  do  you  still  cling  to  that  idea?"  asked 
Willibald,  reproachfully.  "Will  you  go  now,  when 
everything  is  love  and  peace  between  us  ?" 

"Just  because  of  that  I  shall  go,  so  that  it  may 
remain.  Do  not  oppose  it,  my  son.  I  have  to  be 
first  where  I  live  and  work.  You  want  to  be  that 
now;  therefore  it  is  best  we  are  not  together;  and 
your  little  princess  must  not  get  angry  about  it. 
We  have  heretofore  had  great  anxiety  about  you, 
and  people  do  not  quarrel  when  they  have  to  tremble 
anew  each  day  for  husband  and  son.  But  that  is 
over  now,  and  I  am  still  too  much  of  the  old  kind  to 
fit  myself  to  your  youth.  Do  whatever  you  like,  but 
things  must  go  as  I  like  in  my  house,  and  therefore 
I  go." 

She  turned  and  went  into  the  house,  while  the 
young  lord  looked  after  her  with  a  half-suppressed 
sigh. 


CHAPTER  LX. 

"SHE  is  right,  perhaps,"  Willibald  said,  half 
aloud,  as  his  mother  vanished ;  "but  she  will  be  un- 
happy alone,  and  without  the  long-accustomed  ac- 
tivity. I  know  that  she  will  not  be  able  to  bear  the 
enforced  rest.  You  ought  to  have  begged  her  to 
remain,  too,  Marietta." 

The  young  wife  laid  her  curly  head  upon  her  hus- 
band's shoulder  and  looked  at  him  roguishly. 

"Oh,  no ;  I  shall  do  something  better.  I  shall  see 
to  it  that  mamma  does  not  get  unhappy  when  she 
leaves  us." 

•'You?  How  will  you  do  that?" 
"Quite  easily.  I  shall  marry  mamma  off." 
"But,  Marietta,  what  are  you  thinking  of?" 
"Oh,  you  wise  Willy ;  have  you  really  not  noticed 
anything?"  laughed  Marietta,  and  it  was  the  old, 
silvery  laugh  with  which  she  had  bewitched  him  at 
\Valdhofen.  "And  you  do  not  know  why  Uncle 
Schonan  was  in  such  a  grim  temper  when  we  saw 
him  in  Berlin  three  days  ago  ?  And  why  he  did  not 
want  to  come  to  Burgsdorf  at  all,  although  we 
begged  him  so  much?  Mamma  did  not  ask  him, 
because  she  feared  a  renewed  proposal.  He  under- 
stood it,  and  consequently  he  was  so  angry.  I  have 
known  all  about  it  ever  so  long;  even  at  the  time 
when  mamma  came  to  us  at  Waldhofen,  and  he  told 
her  so  fiercely  that  she  would  only  use  him  as  a  sec- 
ondary person  at  a  wedding.  I  saw  then  that  he 

416 


THE    SIGX    OF    FLAME.  417 

would  like  to  be  one  of  the  principals.  Willy,  you 
are  making  a  superb  face  now!  You  look  exactly 
as  you  did  at  the  beginning  of  our  acquaintance." 

The  young  lord  did  not,  indeed,  look  very  intel- 
lectual in  his  boundless  surprise.  He  had  never 
considered  the  possibility  of  his  mother  marrying 
again,  and  to  her  brother-in-law,  besides!  But  it 
broke  upon  him  that  this  was  an  excellent  solution 
of  the  difficulty. 

"Marietta,  you  are  surpassingly  clever !"  he  cried, 
looking  with  the  greatest  admiration  at  his  wife, 
who  accepted  the  homage  with  much  satisfaction. 

"I  am  even  more  clever  than  you  think,"  she  said, 
triumphantly,  "for  I  have  put  the  matter  to  rights. 
I  got  behind  Uncle  Schonan  and  gave  him  to  under- 
stand that  if  he  would  storm  once  more  now,  the 
fortress  would  probably  surrender.  He  grumbled 
mightily  and  said  that  he  had  had  enough  of  it  and 
did  not  want  to  be  made  a  fool  of  again ;  but  at  last 
he  reconsidered  the  matter.  He  arrived  fifteen  min- 
utes ago.  I  did  not  dare  tell  mamma  anything 
about  it,  and — here  he  is !" 

She  nodded  to  the  Chief  Forester,  who  emerged 
upon  the  terrace  and  heard  the  last  words. 

"Yes,  here  I  am;  but  take  care,  little  woman,  if 
you  have  'led  me  behind  the  light/  for" — to  Willi- 
bald — "I  have  come  solely  at  her  request.  She  has 
probably  given  you  the  details  about  how  it  stands 
with  us — that  is,  with  me,  for  your  Frau  Mamma  is 
probably  again  unreasonable,  obstinate  and  self- 
willed  as  she  usually  is — but  I  will  marry  her  yet!" 

"All  right,  uncle,  if  she  will  only  have  you,'' 
laughed  Willibald,  who  could  not  help  thinking  this 
description  of  his  mother  from  a  wooer  very  pe- 
culiar. 


418  THE   SIGN   OF   FLAME. 

"Yes,  that  is  the  question,"  said  Schonan,  doubt- 
fully; "but  your  wife  thinks " 

"That  we  dare  not  lose  another  minute!"  inter- 
rupted Marietta.  "Mamma  is  in  her  room,  and  has 
no  conception  of  the  attack.  Willy  and  I  will  re- 
main in  the  background,  and  join  in  the  battle  if  the 
worst  should  happen.  Forward,  march,  uncle;  for- 
ward, Willy!" 

And  Frau  Marietta  von  Eschenhagen,  with  her 
little,  delicate  hands  pushed  the  stately  Chief  For- 
ester and  her  huge  husband  forward,  without  more 
ado.  They  patiently  submitted,  although  Schonan 
muttered : 

"Strange  how  they  all  understand  how  to  order 
one  about — little  ones  as  well  as  big  ones.  It  must 
be  born  in  them." 

Regine  von  Eschenhagen  stood  at  the  window  of 
her  room,  looking  out  upon  her  beloved  Burgsdorf, 
which  she  intended  to  leave  in  a  few  days. 

Much  as  she  was  convinced  of  the  wisdom  of  this 
decision,  it  was  yet  not  easy  to  execute  it.  The 
strong,  restlessly  active  woman,  who  had  stood 
thirty  years  at  the  head  of  a  large  work,  felt  a  shud- 
der at  the  rest  and  inactivity  which  awaited  her. 
She  had  been  made  acquainted  with  the  city  life 
during  her  first  separation  from  her  son,  and  had 
been  very  unhappy  in  it. 

The  door  opened  and  the  Chief  Forester  entered. 

"Moritz,  you  here!"  Regine  started  with  sur- 
prise. "This  is  sensible  of  you  to  come." 

"Yes,  I  am  always  sensible,"  remarked  Herr  von 
Schonan,  very  pointedly.  "Although  you  did  not 
have  the  grace  to  invite  me,  I  came  to  get  your  con- 
sent to  attend  Toni's  wedding.  Of  course,  you  will 
come  to  Furstenstein  with  your  children?" 


THE   SIGN   OF   FLAME.  419 

"Yes,  certainly  we  will  come;  but  we  were  all 
much  surprised  at  this  haste.  Did  you  not  intend 
to  buy  an  estate  first?  And  that  is  not  usually  ac- 
complished so  quickly." 

"No,  but  they  want  to  get  married.  Our  victors 
have  become  very  assuming-  since  their  heroic  deeds. 
Waldorf  simply  declared  upon  his  return,  'Papa, 
you  said  when  I  left,  First  win  in  war  and  then 
marry ;  now  we  have  won  and  now  I  want  to  marry. 
I'll  not  wait  any  longer.  The  estate  has  time  to 
wait,  but  not  the  wedding,  for  that  is  the  most  im- 
portant.' So,  since  Toni  is  also  convinced  of  this 
importance,  nothing  was  left  for  me  to  do  but  to 
name  the  wedding  day." 

Frau  von  Eschenhagen  laughed. 

"Yes,  young  people  are  quick  to  marry,  and  they 
have  so  much  time  to  wait." 

"But  it  is  not  so  with  older  folks,"  said  Schonan, 
who  had  only  been  looking  for  this  opportunity  and 
speedily  made  use  of  it.  "Have  you  considered  the 
question  at  last,  Regine?" 

"What  question?" 

"Our  marrying.  I  hope  you  are  now  in  the 
'humor' for  it?" 

Regine  turned  away,  somewhat  offended. 

"You  like  to  be  abrupt,  Moritz.  How  did  you 
get  into  the  notion  so  suddenly?" 

"What !  you  call  that  sudden  ?"  the  Chief  Fores- 
ter cried,  indignantly.  "I  made  my  first  proposal  to 
you  five  years  ago;  the  second  one  last  year,  and 
now  I  come  for  the  third  time,  and  yet  you  have  not 
had  sufficient  time  to  consider.  Yes  or  no  ?  If  you 
send  me  away  this  time,  I  shall  not  come  back—de- 
pend upon  that — and  the  whole  courtship  can  go 
where  it  wants  to," 


420  THE    SIGN    OF    FLAME. 

Regine  did  not  answer,  but  it  was  not  indecision 
which  made  her  hesitate.  Even  this  strange,  orig- 
inal nature  had  a  spice  of  deep  romance  in  her  heart 
— love  for  the  man  who  was  once  to  be  her  husband, 
Hartmut  von  Falkenried.  When  he  had  married 
another,  she  too  had  pledged  her  hand,  for  she  was 
not  the  kind  to  mourn  her  life  away  uselessly;  but 
the  same  bitter  pain  which  had  stung  the  young  girl 
when  she  approached  the  altar,  awoke  now  again  in 
the  aging  woman  and  closed  her  lips;  but  it  lasted 
only  a  few  moments,  then  she  threw  the  dream 
from  her  with  decision,  and  stretched  out  her  hand 
to  von  Schonan. 

"Well,  then,  yes,  Moritz.  I  will  be  a  good  and 
true  wife  to  you." 

"Thank  God !"  cried  Schonan,  with  a  deep  sigh  of 
relief,  for  he  had  taken  the  hesitation  as  a  prelim- 
inary to  a  third  refusal.  "You  should  have  said 
that  five  years  ago,  Regine,  but  better  late  than 
never.  At  last  we  have  gotten  so  far." 

And  with  that  the  persistent  wooer  enclosed  the 
finally  won  life  companion  in  a  hearty  embrace. 


CHAPTER  LXI. 

IT  was  a  hot  summer  day.  Even  in  the  forest 
one  felt  something  of  the  intense  heat  which  flick- 
ered upon  meadows  and  fields.  Upon  the  forest 
path  a  little  group  walked  beneath  the  tall  firs.  It 
was  General  Falkenried,  with  his  son  and  daughter, 
who  were  accompanying  him  a  part  of  the  way  to 
Burgsdorf,  where  he  intended  making  a  visit. 

Falkenried  had  indeed  become  another  person. 

The  war  which  had  been  fatal  to  so  many,  and 
made  others  old  before  their  time,  in  spite  of  the 
victories  and  triumphs  won,  appeared  to  have  been  a 
source  of  rejuvenation  to  him.  Although  the  white 
hair  and  deep  furrows  in  the  face  remained,  wit- 
nesses not  to  be  erased  of  a  painful  time,  yet  the 
face  had  life  in  it  again ;  the  eyes  had  regained  their 
old  fire,  and  one  saw  now  at  the  first  glance  that  the 
man  was  not  so  old,  but  stood  yet  in  the  fulness  and 
power  of  life. 

Hartmut  had  not  yet  entirely  recovered,  as  his 
appearance  proved.  The  campaign  had  not  made 
him  younger.  He  looked  older  and  graver,  and  the 
still  pale  face,  with  the  broad  red  scar  upon  the  fore- 
head, spoke  of  a  time  of  heavy  suffering. 

The  wound  in  itself  had  not  been  serious,  but  had 
become  so  through  the  severe  loss  of  blood,  and  the 
overexertion  of  the  ride  in  the  night  of  the  severe 
cold,  so  that  at  first  all  hope  had  been  abandoned. 

421 


422  THE    SIGtf    OF    FLAME. 

and  it  required  months  of  careful  nursing  to  give 
Hartmut  back  to  life. 

But  the  old  Hartmut,  the  son  of  Zalika,  with  his 
wild  blood  and  unbridled  desire  for  freedom,  had 
also  died  in  this  time  of  suffering.  It  seemed  as  if 
with  the  name  Rojanow,  which  he  had  cast  forever 
from  him,  the  unfortunate  inheritance  from  the 
mother  had  also  been  lost.  The  heavy,  dark  curls 
were  just  beginning  to  grow  again,  and  the  high, 
powerful  forehead  appeared  more  striking  in  its  re- 
semblance to  his  father. 

But  the  young  wife  at  his  side  bloomed  in  the 
fullest  beauty  of  youth  and  happiness.  Whoever 
had  seen  her  in  her  cold  hauteur  —  her  icy,  unap- 
proachable manner,  would  hardly  have  recognized 
her  in  this  bright,  slender  woman,  in  her  light  sum- 
mer costume,  with  fresh  forest  flowers  in  her  hand. 

The  smile  and  tone  with  which  she  spoke  to  her 
husband  and  father  had  never  been  known  to  Frau 
von  Wallmoden;  they  had  been  learned  only  by 
Adelaide  von  Falkenried. 

"Not  any  farther,  now,"  said  the  General,  paus- 
ing in  their  walk.  "You  have  to  take  the  return 
walk,  and  Hartmut  must  still  be  careful.  The  phy- 
sicians request  that  he  be  very  prudent." 

"Father,  if  you  only  knew  how  depressing  it  feels 
to  be  considered  an  invalid  still,  when  I  already  feel 
full  of  life  and  power!  I  am  really  well." 

"Do  not  place  in  jeopardy  again  what  has  been 
so  hardly  won,"  continued  the  father.  "You  have 
not  yet  learned  patience,  but  fortunately  I  know 
you  are  under  Ada's  supervision,  and  she  is  strict 
on  this  subject." 

"Yes,  had  it  not  been  for  Ada,  there  probably 
would  not  have  been  anything  to  take  care  of,"  sai4 


THE   SIGN    OF   FLAME.  423 

Hartmut,  with  a  look  of  deepest  affection  upon  his 
wife.  "I  believe  I  was  in  rather  a  hopeless  condi- 
tion when  she  came  to  me." 

"The  physicians,  at  least,  gave  me  no  hope  when 
I  sent  off  the  dispatch  which  called  Ada  to  your 
side.  You  called  for  her  in  your  first  conscious 
moment,  to  my  boundless  surprise,  for  I  did  not 
dream  that  you  ever  knew  each  other." 

"Was  it  not  right  to  you,  Papa?"  asked  the 
young  wife,  looking  smilingly  up  to  the  father,  who 
drew  her  to  his  breast  and  pressed  a  kiss  upon  her 
brow. 

"You  know  best  what  you  are  to  Hartmut  and 
me,  my  child.  I  thanked  God  that  I  could  leave  him 
under  your  nursing  when  I  had  to  march  on.  And 
you  were  right,  too,  when  you  persuaded  him  to  re- 
main here,  although  the  doctors  wished  to  send  him 
away.  He  has  to  learn  to  feel  at  home  first  in  the 
fatherland — must  learn  to  understand  and  love 
again  that  from  which  he  has  so  long  been 
estranged." 

"Has  to  learn  it?"  said  Ada  reproachfully. 
"What  he  read  to  you  and  me  to-day  I  should  think 
would  show  that  he  has  learned  it  already,  and  that 
this  new  work  bears  another  language  from  the 
wild,  glowing  Arivana." 

"Yes,  Hartmut,  your  new  work  is  of  great 
merit,"  said  Falkenried,  giving  his  hand  to  his  son. 
"I  believe  the  fatherland  will  be  proud  of  my  boy, 
even  in  times  of  peace." 

Hartmut's  eyes  sparkled  as  he  returned  the 
pressure  of  the  hand.  He  knew  what  praise  from 
his  father's  lips  was  worth. 

"And  now,  good-by."  The  General  kissed  his 
daughter-in-tew  again,  "I  will  drive  from  Burgs- 


424  THE    SIGN    OP   FLAME. 

clorf  directly  to  town,  but  we  shall  see  each  other  in 
a  few  days  again.  Farewell,  children !" 

When  he  had  disappeared  behind  the  trees,  Hart- 
mut  and  Adelaide  turned  on  their  homeward  way, 
which  led  them  by  the  Burgsdorf  pond.  Involun- 
tarily they  paused  beside  it,  and  gazed  upon  the 
calm  sheet  of  water  which  lay  so  shiningly  in  the 
sun  with  its  wreath  of  rushes  and  water  lilies. 

"I  have  played  boys'  games  here  so  often  with 
Willy,"  said  Hartmut  softly,  "and  here  my  future 
was  decided  on  that  fatal  night.  I  realize  only  no\v 
what  I  did  to  my  father  in  that  unfortunate  hour." 

"But  you  have  atoned  for  it  fully,"  returned  Ada, 
leaning  her  head  on  her  husband's  shoulder.  "It 
has  been  wiped  out  before  the  world,  too,  which 
overwhelmed  you  and  father  on  all  sides  with  ad- 
miration and  appreciation  when  it  was  known  who 
had  done  that  heroic  deed." 

Hartmut  shook  his  head  gravely. 

"It  was  a  deed  of  despair,  not  heroism.  I  did  not 
believe  that  it  would  succeed — nobody  believed  it; 
but  even  if  I  had  fallen  I  should  have  regained  my 
lost  honor  by  that  ride  through  the  enemy.  Egon 
knew  that,  and  for  that  reason  he  put  the  rescue  into 
my  hands.  When  we  said  farewell  that  icy  winter 
night  in  the  shattered  walls  of  the  little  chapel,  we 
both  felt  that  it  was  a  final  farewell,  but  we  thought, 
too,  that  I  should  be  the  victim,  for  I  went  into  al- 
most certain  death.  Fate  decreed  differently.  I 
was  borne  as  by  spirit  hands  through  the  dangers 
to  the  accomplishment  of  my  aim,  and  almost  at  the 
same  hour  Egon  fell.  You  need  not  hide  your  tears 
from  me,  Ada;  I  am  not  jealous  of  the  dead,  for  I 
loved  him  just  as — he  loved  you." 

"Eugene  brought  me  his  last  greeting,"  said  the 


THE    SIGN   OF   FLAME. 

young  wife,  in  whose  eyes  shone  the  tears  she  had 
wished  to  conceal  from  her  husband.  "And  Stad- 
inger,  too,  wrote  me  to  fulfill  his  dying  master's  last 
request.  I  fear  the  old  man  will  not  live  much 
longer;  his  letter  sounded  as  if  he  were  utterly 
crushed." 

"Poor  Egon !"  In  Hartmut's  voice  sounded  the 
deep  pain  he  felt  for  his  friend.  "He  was  so  full  of 
sunny  happiness  and  joy;  he  was  created  for  it  and 
to  give  it.  Perhaps  you  would  have  been  happier 
at  his  side,  Ada,  than  with  your  wild,  passionate 
Hartmut,  who  will  trouble  you  often  enough  with 
the  dark  side  of  his  nature." 

Ada  smiled  up  at  him  with  the  tears  still  in  her 
eyes.  "But  I  love  this  wild,  stormy  Hartmut,  and 
do  not  desire  any  greater  happiness  than  to  be  his 
wife." 

The  forest  lake  lay  in  dreamy  noonday  stillness; 
grave  and  dark  stood  the  old  firs  over  it ;  the  rushes 
at  its  border  whispered  low,  and  thousands  of  bright 
sparkles  danced  upon  its  surface. 

Above  it  curved  the  blue  sky  into  which  the  boy 
had  once  wished  to  soar  like  the  falcon  of  which  his 
race  bore  the  name,  higher  and  higher  to  the  sun. 
It  beamed,  too,  now  up  there  in  shining  splendor — 
the  powerful,  eternal  sign  of  flame  in  the  heavens! 


[THE  END.] 


UC  SOUTHERN  REGIONAL  LIBRARY  FACILITY 


A     000  035  885     3 


